Tainted Souls, Tainted Swords
by SoulOfTaki
Summary: The renegade ninja, Taki, must fight for her life on all fronts. Can she live long enough to master Mekkimaru and destroy Soul Edge once and for all? Loosely based on Character Profiles in SC2 with plenty of plot liberties taken betwe
1. Nightmares

**Tainted Souls, Tainted Swords**

Chapter One: Nightmares

It called him. The fragments of Soul Edge, they whispered to him and beckoned him. The sword burned with a passion to reform, the shards resonated, drew him closer to them; the once noble knight Siegfried had been reduced to a tool in the hands of a great evil. Siegfried was no more. Consumed by the demon-sword, Nightmare now walked the earth.

Journeying across Europe and Asia, he collected the shards of the broken sword – mercilessly slaying all in his path, and all who held the remains of Soul Edge. Mostly encountering peasants, commoners, nameless individuals who never realized why the monster attacked and swept the sands of their lives away.

As the sword's strength regenerated, though, things would soon change. Now he would face worthy opponents, ones who might actually pose a threat to the unholy reunion of the blade. This latest calling summoned Nightmare to the shattered ruin of a forgotten castle. Darkness reigned this midnight hour with the eerie illuminations from the crescent moon and the constellations.

Nightmare fearlessly approached the broken gate with the massive sword held over one shoulder. Then a female voice called out, "You're obviously not one for stalking." And in an instant the voice seemed to come from a different direction entirely, "You're the terror born of Soul Edge, Siegfried, I presume."

"Souls . . ." Nightmare quietly murmured. His eyes scanned the top of the outer wall and discovered nothing, and he passed through the gate without so much as slowing down. In fact, the man closed his eyes and in his mind the swords showed him more clearly the direction of the next shard.

Taki quietly crept along the top of the unstable inner wall, watching light barely reflect off his full plate armor and monstrous sword. She, herself, kept Reki-maru and Meki-maru sheathed as not to give her exact position away – they would come free at that critical moment before the kill. She called out again, "You've followed me for the fragment, well, come."

Again the ninja's voice seemed to jump locations, now echoing from much deeper in the castle's main structure – "Come and get it!"

The blackness of the night was interrupted only by the brownish-grey of the ancient stones, and the faint texture of grass and dirt beneath Nightmare's feet. The faint breeze created ripples across the tall grass and the leaves of distant trees, but otherwise nothing moved. The only sounds came from the regular clink of his armored boots as he passed through the inner wall.

Taki sprang from behind. Rekki-maru came free from its sheath with a minor clink sound timed perfectly with Nightmare's footstep. The blade would penetrate a seam in the armor and sever his spinal co—"Oh no!"

Nightmare had expected the attack! With an effortless sidestep, he swung his massive sword and caught the crimson clad ninja off guard. The flat of his heavy sword slammed into Taki's body and threw her harshly against the jagged stone wall. The back of her head smashed against the wall, throwing her senses through a loop; but fortunately for her, she rode pure instinct and dove towards Nightmare at an angle just enough to avoid Soul Edge. Rekki-maru still in her grasp, with a single motion she came out of her defensive roll and stabbed upward at a 45 degree angle where another weak spot in the armor should have been and felt the blade strike solid plate.

"Damnit!"

Her head cleared just in time to realize the knight anticipated that too. The hilt of Soul Edge came down upon her, slamming her upper back as his left fist gave her an uppercut that took her off her feet. Nightmare held her over his head with one hand, screaming, "This is the end!" Then he slammed the ninja headfirst into the castle wall a second time.

Winded and on the verge of blacking out from the head shots, Taki attempted roll away only to feel an armored boot stomp on her—smashing into her back and pinning her in place. "Where do you think you're going?" The victor taunted, reaching down and taking a handful of her pony tail. Stepping off her, Nightmare pulled the loser to her knees and raised Soul Edge with clear intentions of pummeling her to death.

Rekki-Maru lay on the ground beyond her grasp, Taki quietly reached for Mekki-maru as she eyed Nightmare's armor for a vulnerable spot. The fight wasn't over yet. Not yet. Holding her breath, Taki drew Mekki-maru, but it wouldn't come free from its scabbard! SMASH! The hilt struck her square in the face. Her arms hung limply at her sides, helpless, and at his mercy. Soul Edge rose, and came down upon her again and again and again so that the sound of her skull cracking echoed across this abandoned castle accompanied with Nightmare's inhuman roar.

Taki was finished.

- - -

Awaking in a cold sweat, Taki instinctively drew Rekki-maru. Listening to the pitch blackness within this cargo hold, she heard only the sound of the ship's creaking accompanied with her own heavy breathing. The ninja sat up against a large crate, drew her knees to her chest, and leaned her head back.

Then slowly as she calmed herself down, Taki sat up and opened the crate – sifting blindly in the darkness until her hand fell upon Mekki-maru in its scabbard. Retrieving the weapon, she leaned back against the wooden box, staring into the darkness where she held the sword. Then out of the blackness, the sword's form emerged as her eyes finally adjusted to the minimal light. There she sat, running her fingers along the sword's scabbard, studying the sword that caused her so much grief, cost her her place within the Fu ma clan and cost her her dreams. She sighed, "I never thought I'd see the day when a life of hunting demons sounded so simple and easy."


	2. Riverport Arena I

**Tainted Souls, Tainted Swords**

Chapter Two: The Riverport Arena I

The sailing vessel reached its port in Italy roughly an hour before the dawn, allowing the weary ninja (wrapped in a tattered cloak) to depart unnoticed under the cover of darkness. The coarse patchwork fabric of the garment concealed her weapons and her form, permitting her to pass in the crowd without attracting much attention . . . the sort of attention that her underlying outfit would (no doubt) attract.

Down the Italian streets, the woman warrior casually walked and allowed her bloodshot eyes to drink in the foreign surroundings, taking note of the city's general structure, places to get information, she mentally absorbed the small details that could help her later such as possible escape routes, alley ways, and shadows to hide in. She hadn't wandered fifteen minutes when she inexplicably went dizzy; she put her hand to her temple and shook the sensation away. The nightmares had taken their toll on her. So the casual observation of the city turned into a hunt for a place to rest, and as the sun arose to welcome in the morning, Taki curled up on a rooftop on the outskirts of the city, using her cloak as a pillow (and also to hide her weapons.) She closed her eyes, and passed out.

Fortune and misfortune always intertwined to form Taki's fate, and so it continues this day. Fortune allowed Taki to rest without dreaming, brought upon by the misfortune of being so physically and mentally fatigued that her mind could not dream. Only rest, leaving her vulnerable beyond her refined reflexes, vulnerable for a mere peasant to effortlessly kill her in her sleep. She slept peacefully, though, and undisturbed until she awoke naturally half a day later when the sun had just started on its way to dusk.

"And I was hoping I could be on my way by now." She sighed, shielding her eyes from the sun.

Taki arose, arched her back until her vertebrae popped, then surveyed the surrounding area from her vantage point. The sea lay off to the West, and a cool breeze came in providing some relief from the hot summer sun. To the East she heard the distinctive sound of a crowd roaring its approval. The ninja observed a few people scurrying off in that direction. "A public event?" She thought out loud. Moments later, she leapt to the street below, her figure in that tight red outfit was exposed as she descended, and the moment her feet touched the ground the cloak concealed her bright outfit once again. Then off she went.

Where there's a people, there's information.

As she approached the source of the noise, her battle trained ear recognized the sounds underscoring the hundreds of screaming spectators: sounds of swords colliding. Slipping through the coliseum's outermost gate, the ninja pushed through the multitude to discover the peculiarity of this arena. The combat took place upon a caged-in floating platform, anchored in the center of the river; the people observed the battle from the riverbank. Two bridges stretched across the river, boxing the arena in. Along the East Bridge warriors tested their swords and prepared for their turn in the water-bound coliseum, and along the West Bridge the apparent rulers of the city overlooked the whole thing. Both of the main bridges featured a small drawbridge that could be lowered to reach the floating battle platform, then raised again to ensure the battles were, indeed, uninterrupted and to the death.

Taki drifted in the sea of people along the riverbank while the drawbridges lowered and the next set of combatants took their place: one obviously an outsider, the other a native to these part. The ninja paid them little attention though; her agenda was not to watch a fight. She paused occasionally should a bit of conversation catch her ear, but more or less she made her way to the city's officials specialty seats intending to make a full 360. Most of the discussions dealt with the battles within the arena, anyway.

By the armed guards, Taki safely assumed that only privileged individuals may watch from the West Bridge . . . or individuals capable of becoming one with the shadows. And with the coliseum keeping a deathgrip upon everyone's attention, Taki could easily maneuver beneath the West Bridge's seating structure.

"Are you out of your mind!" Some unseen rich fool snapped, only to be silenced. Then at a slightly lower volume, "Are you out of your mind? You bet against your own man? Why! That Korean punk doesn't even have a shield! He's just an ignorant foreigner!"

Taki rolled her eyes at the egocentric conversation, and quietly hoped the Korean would win. She also entertained the idea of killing this loudmouth bastard herself for the satisfaction of having him die at the hands of an "ignorant foreigner", but that one would remain an unmanifested concept dwelling in the back of her mind. She moved on before the temptation overtook her.

"M'Lord, Vincenzio's has been killed . . ."

It wasn't the words that stopped Taki, rather the tone of the man's voice. A tone that implies both urgency and secrecy. The cloaked ninja moved closer and peered through an opening to see a soldier speaking to one of the decorated spectators.

". . . most of his men were killed too."

"Have the survivors provided us with any useful information?"

"No, m'lord. They just ramble about being attacked by some sort of mummy with knives for hands."

"I want that treasure . . ."

At which point the sound of the crowds overtook the conversation; her attention shifted to the arena in the lake (which she could barely see), and Taki wasn't particularly surprised to see the Roman Gladiator on one knee, cradling his slashed abdomen while the red-headed Korean stood over him. "That's it? Ha! I hardly broke a sweat."

The ninja smirked. Ordinarily such pompousness would bother her; however, after the conversation she overheard a few minutes ago, she was somewhat amused. Some nobles will no doubt be pissed off by the kid's arrogance. Good.

The nearby speaking parties decided not to pursue their conversation much further. It was just as well. She wasn't interested in mummies and raiders, anyway. Moving on, Taki was waiting for a distraction in the ring so she could dart for the next riverbank, but then the Korean dragged the dying Gladiator to his feet and pressed his blade against the man's throat, "Tell me about the Sword of Salvation!"

"Sword of Salvation?" A red flag went up. Immediately she returned to her vantage point and observed the gladiator pass out from blood loss and the Korean removed a metal fragment from around the gladiator's neck. Thus, Taki's fears were confirmed.

"Dante's amulet!" yet another of the upperclass gasped, witnessing in horror as their robbed dead champion fell lifelessly to the platform.

"Don't worry. We'll get it back." An unknown voice answered with a bit too much confidence, "And we'll deal with this kid."

"Damnit," Taki swore, "Why is it circumstance always forces me to make a scene?" What the hell? If you're going to make a scene . . .

With a graceful leap, Taki seemingly from nowhere and landed front in center on the West Bridge. "I'll take that." She declared, and with a swift kick to the right lever the release for the drawbridge was disengaged and came crashing down, violently rocking the arena platform.

Needless to say, the upperclass jumped out of their seats at the sudden appearance of the ninja. Needless to say they called for guards, and heavy clanging footsteps answered but Taki showed no concern.

Yunsung barely kept his balance, and looked on to the source of the commotion across the water. He saw a cloaked figure step onto the drawbridge and approach as the upperclass scrambled away. "You want this?" He asked rhetorically, as he placed the fragment around his neck, "I'd like to see you try and take it.

Coming to a stop just within the cage walls, Taki now found herself frustrated with this kid's arrogance. And despite the fact she knew that talking would get her nowhere, she tried anyway, "The sword is evil--"

"I don't care if it's evil."

"It will consume you--"

"Are you going to fight, or bore me to death with your yapping?"

Taki sighed as she coolly pulled of her cloak and let it drop to the platform, "I was hoping to avoid a fight and the whole 'you're too young for this; you're just a kid' lecture that you wouldn't listen to anyway."

"Ha! When I'm through, I'll be telling you you're too old for this!" And with that Yunsung charged the ninja. Taki just shook her head, very unimpressed. The Korean swung wildly to the point of nearly losing his balance. The ninja sidestepped and wound up executing what looked like a kick, but actually turned out to be a hold as she wrapped her leg around Yunsung's neck. With her prey held in place, Taki drew Mekki-maru and bashed the kid in the face with the sword's hilt. Taki, while graceful, performed the entire maneuver as though it were as mundane as breathing.

The crowd watched in silence. They had no idea of what to make of this woman. Clearly she was the better fighter, but her fight wasn't nearly interesting to watch.

Yungsung crumbled, landing in a pitiful heap. Still treating the entire arena ordeal as mundane, Taki knelt down and retrieved the fragment without so much as pausing. Then as she started to leave, a voice belonging to a young female called out from the East Bridge. "And where do you think you're going?"

Taki glanced over her shoulder to see the opposite drawbridge drop, once again rocking the coliseum platform, yet it did not phase the ninja. Across the arena Seung Mina crossed the drawbridge with her naginata, Scarlet Thunder, resting over one shoulder


	3. Riverport Arena II

**Tainted Souls, Tainted Swords**

Chapter Three: The Riverport Arena II

Taki glanced over her shoulder to see the opposite drawbridge drop, once again rocking the coliseum platform, yet it did not phase the ninja. Across the arena Seung Mina crossed the drawbridge with her naginata, Scarlet Thunder, resting over one shoulder. Paying the new threat little attention, the ninja kicked her cloak straight up into her grasp, intending to leave without answering; however, her exit was blocked by two giants in silver and gold full plate armor, wielding heavy axes.

The ninja glanced over her shoulder again at the woman in the floating arena, and their eyes met. This girl's soul was ablaze - she wanted a fight, and one way or the other Taki would wind up drawing her swords again. On a sigh of frustration Taki dropped her cloak, and approached Mina while eyeing the armed guards. They did not pursue.

"You tell me – should I even bother trying to talk first?"

Mina shook her head slightly, then lightly kicked Yunsung as she stepped over his unconscious body, "I'm responsible for him, so no. Not until I pay you back."

"Sibling?"

And the two women came to a stop in the center of the arena. "Try babysitter."

"There's more." Taki felt it. Granted this woman no doubt has her reasons for looking out for this kid, but she had another motive for being here. "You want Soul Edge too, don't you?"

"Fight first, talk later." And with little other warning, Mina sprung into battle. Hopping back, she swept at Taki's legs with her poled weapon; however, the ninja leapt into the air and flipped over Mina. Landing precisely behind the Korean girl, Taki attempted to end this fight just as abruptly as the one with Yunsung. Mina escaped the throw, though, driving the butt of her naginata into Taki's midsection hard enough to stun the ninja. Then Seung Mina spun around with a powerful kick that knocked the ninja to the ground.

Mina poll-vaulted up on Scarlet Thunder, and then brought the weapon down with devastating force, striking the ground as Taki rolled out of the way and performed an aerial kick which, in turn, put Mina down. Hoping to keep her down, Taki drove her foot into the girl's ribs as she tried to get up. Unfortunately, the girl was stubborn. Again the ninja went to kick the downed girl, but Mina was ready. Scarlet Thunder whirled into action, knocking Taki's legs apart (first the left, then the right) and then Mina brought the staff straight up and slamming the ninja in the crotch. Not stopping there, Mina actually managed to lift the ninja off her feet with the move and slam her back down (headfirst) on the other side of her.

Mina raised Scarlet thunder, and drove the blade straight down where Taki lay. Like before, Taki rolled to the side. Unlike before, Mina had something else up her sleeve. With Scarlet Thunder anchored to the platform, she held onto the pole and swung her whole body around to deliver a powerful kick the connected with Taki's head just as she was getting up. And the ninja went down again. Mina went to repay an earlier favor, trying to kick Taki square in the ribs, but the ninja blocked and shoved her away.

Within weapon range of one another, the two women glared with intentions of finishing this battle. Seung Mina feinted a horizontal strike with Scarlet Thunder, and then thrust the blade straight at Taki's heart. Taki brought out both Rekki-maru and Mekkimaru, the swords connected with Scarlet Thunder and guided it safely away (pulling Mina off balance so she stumbles towards the ninja). A moment later when Mina regained her balance, she had a pair of swords scissored around her throat.

The Korean girl gulped, and dropped her precious Scarlet Thunder, and fell to her knees in surrender. The crowds voted for the loser's death, chanting, "Kill her! Kill her! Kill her!" Yet Mina and Taki seemed a world apart from the spectators, existing in a world above and beyond them.

"You had your fight, now I'll have my words: your Sword of Salvation, Soul Edge, is evil." Taki stated, stepping back and putting both swords away before Mekki-maru could overtake her mind. With another fragment of Soul Edge in her possession, Mekki-maru's calls were much harder to resist. "Do not pursue it."

Mina kept her head bowed in shameful defeat, nodding ever so slightly. In her heart, she knew this was true. In her past searches (four and seven years ago) she'd heard such rumors, but she didn't want to believe them. She was at this ninja's mercy, however. "Fine."

The heavy footsteps of approaching guards in full plate drew Taki's attention, and the sound of the drawbridges rising and effectively trapping her in this cage did not bode well. She turned to face the new threat. Through the cage and across the water, one of the nameless well-dressed rulers called out to her, "I believe you forgot something my dear. You see, in deathmatch arena combat, the fights are not over until someone dies," and he paced back and forth while he lectured as if he had something important to say, "but to make things simple for you, foreigner, kill those two losers, or my guards will execute the three of you."

Taki crossed her arms, "I'm whimsical about things like that." That wasn't true, but she felt like pissing this guy off. "Maybe some other day." Truth was, she typically only killed evil beings.

"Some other day?" he echoed in disbelief at the words he just heard. "No. No! Know why? Because you're dying today!" Then the redundant ruler pointed at the three, "Kill her. Kill them. Kill all of them."

Before the Berzerkers could react, Taki charged the one in silver armor. She gracefully leapt into the air, and came down with a scissor kick and slash from Rekki-marru which slid off the thick armor. The point wasn't to do damage, however, the point was to get between the two axe wielders. Immediately, the ninja rolled to the left as one axe came down. And the gold-plated Berzerker swong his axe horizontally, burying his weapon into the armor of his companion with a loud clang. Taki came out of her roll, Rekki-maru came out of its sheath, and she sent her sword into that same Berzerker's armpit where the steel plates did not protect.

"I can't subdue you guys through this armor without killing you," Ripping her sword free, she spun around into an en guard stance, waiting for the next round to begin. "Back down now, and you'll walk out of here alive."

The wounded Berzerker answered with a primal scream that sounded more like a beast than a man, and with one hand it buried its axe where Taki stood. The slow Berzerker, however, was not fast enough; the ninja easily stepped away and leapt into the air to bring Rekki-maru through the eyeholes in the heavy armor. "Gaaaaaaaaah!" The beast screamed that primal scream again. His armor was now stained crimson as a river of blood flowed from his wounds. Taki gripped her sword in preparation to kick off the dying Berzerker to position herself for the next attack, but this thing wasn't dead quite yet, and it wasn't through with her.

On its dying breath, it grabbed for Taki but she slipped from his grasp. The struggle, however, did force an awkward landing that twisted the ninja's ankle and made her pause. Unfortunately for Taki, the gold Berzerker had begun swinging his axe when her sword was still buried in his companion and she could not afford to pause; fortunately, the blade was aiming for where she was not where she currently stood. The pole of the axe crashed against her and flung Taki clear across the arena where she painfully collided against the steel bars of the cage. And she collapsed to the arena floor where she didn't move right away.

Taki heard the clinking footsteps of Berzerker coming to finish her off, and fought through the pain in her ribs to stand up, using the cage for support. The crowds could see the toll that one blow took on this swift fighter, and all knew she couldn't survive another blow like that. Hell, had he connected with the blade she'd be dead. Worse, she might not be able to dodge the next blow in her current condition. One hand on Rekki-maru, one hand holding on to the cage, Taki readied herself for the next move. The axe went up.

"Hey!" Seung Mina called out, thrusting Scarlet Thunder into the armored man's back. But the armor was too thick, and he paid the girl no attention. His axe came down, and Taki rolled straight at Berzerker so the blade landed behind her (biting the agonizing pain in her ribs). She leapt up and repeated history – burying Rekki-maru into the eye hole of the second Berzerker, then twisted it in place to make sure this one died before retracting the blade. The mammoth of a man fell forward in Taki's direction, but posed no threat of actually hitting her.

Taki, out of breath with one hand to her sore back, looked to Seung Mina who lowered her weapon and shook her head slightly. The ninja nodded appreciatively. Their fight was over.


	4. Conflicts without Confrontations

**Tainted Souls, Tainted Swords**

Chapter Four: Conflicts without Confrontation

And then the East drawbridge came crashing down again, this time Taki fell to one knee unable to keep her balance along with Yunsung who just now came to and tried getting to his feet. Mina, however, managed to stay standing just fine. And there on the East Bridge stood a familiar Samurai, who locked gazes with Taki, "We meet again."

Taki cursed under her breath, remembering their encounter four years ago during the era when fear of losing herself to the fragment of Soul Edge prevented her from drawing Mekki-maru in battle (which crippled her combat style). Did she ever need both swords in a fight. As a result, she lost miserably, barely managing to escape certain death. Now having (semi) mastered Mekki-maru, she knew she'd fair much better against him . . . if only she were in a condition to actually fight him.

Mina, reading the faint hint of hesitation in Taki's expression, faced this new warrior, "If you want her, you have to deal with me."

The now conscious Yunsung just looked from Taki, to Mina, to the mercenary with a confused look on his face.

Mitsurugi stopped as he made it just within the cage, and leaned against the entry way with his arms crossed. "If you stay in this cage much longer, you won't live long enough to accept anymore challenges." And with that he pulled his attention away from the hurt ninja (still on one knee) to point outside the cage with his gaze.

Mina followed his gaze outside the cage across the river to a set of gunmen pushing through the crowds to take position on the bank to rain fire upon them. "Yunsung," She called out, "let's go."

Taki narrowed her eyes at Mitsurugi, and when he looked back she knew his disgust in her had not subsided. Another motive lurked in these actions, otherwise he'd just leave her to die an honorless death (the cowardly death he felt she deserved). And having just acquired a fragment of Soul Edge, it didn't take much imagination to figure out what he wanted. Biting her lip, she snatched up her cloak and made her way to the exit with a visible limp. Mina helped the weary Yunsung to the exit.

Taki let the Koreans leave first, and as she passed by her nemesis, she bitterly growled, "Don't waste your breath asking" and she shoved the fragment of Soul Edge at him. The first wave of gunfire came at them, but the new weapons had centuries of refinement ahead of them. These primitive incarnations didn't have the faintest hint of accuracy, especially from firing across a river through a cage.

"Don't think you're getting it back," he answered. His right hand never left the hilt of his Katana, Shishi-Oh. He'd cut the cowardly ninja in half if she even hinted at drawing her swords. A second wave of musketfire rained down, grazing Mina, Taki, hitting Yunsung in the foot, and a ricochet bounced off the steel bars and bounced off the Samurai's armor.

Swiftly crossing the drawbridge, and entering the safety of the crowd, Taki pulled her cloak around her, "I wouldn't hand it over if I couldn't get it back."

And fortunately for this foursome, the administrators of the arena assumed the gunmen would finish off the caged combatants and so didn't bother calling for melee guards until it was too late. The group literally walked out the front gate, but disappearing into the crowd would prove impossible. They had to get out of sight right away.

Ducking into an alleyway, Taki leaned against a wall to relieve her poor aching torso for a moment, "Okay. This is where we split up—"

But Yunsung wanted to pay her back, "First I owe you something—"

"Stop it right now," Mina snapped, silencing Yunsung. She shoved him back before turning her attention to Taki, "I think we should stick together. You're in no condition to go off on your own; we'll stay alive longer if we look out for each other."

"I'll be fine."

"Running away just like before, huh, Taki?" Mitsurugi venomously commented. And then he addressed Yunsung and Mina, "If the Kunoichi wants to leave, let her run like the coward she is."

Beneath the cloak Taki gripped Mekki-maru, and felt the temptation to bury the sword in this selfish samurai bastard's throat. She glared with the same hatred she felt years ago when their swords first clashed.

Sensing the tension, Seung Mina raised her weapon defensively, standing beside the ninja. Yunsung took a step back on his crippled foot with his sword ready for battle, but he didn't know who he'd be fighting.

Through her battle instincts, Taki knew Mitsurugi waited for her to make a move. More importantly, she knew her chances of getting a sudden kill in her current condition was near impossible. And she couldn't afford to delay their escape from the city any longer. Now wasn't the time to settle their differences anyway. She knew this, and so did Mitsurugi. What infuriated her was the fact Mitsurugi knowingly used the situation as a shield so he could bad mouth her without worrying about retaliation. Who was the real coward?

Pushing past Mitsurugi, "We don't have time for this. Trust me. Split up." And Taki left the group, walking down the alley still using the wall to support herself. Beneath the cloak (clutched in her fist) Taki held the re-acquired fragment of Soul Edge and thought to herself, 'Told you I'd get it back.'

"Wait for us!" Mina called out quietly, putting an arm around Yunsung to help him walk as she started to pursue the ninja.

Mitsurugi grabbed the girl's arm "Let her run."

Snapping free, Mina glared at the samurai, "Don't ever touch me. Got that?" But when Mina looked down the alleyway again, the ninja had vanished.

---

Taki managed to escape to the north without incident; the others stowed away on a freighter bound for France after barely surviving a failed attempt to leave by land. All three had gained a slew of new wounds from that pursuit. Now, with their injuries wrapped and tended to, Yunsung sat with his back against a crate, Mina perched atop that same crate, and Mitsurugi stood across from them, leaning into the side of the ship. All were tired, and all were weary from blood loss.

Staring off into space, Mina stated, "She was right, you know—"

"Stop it, Mina." Yunsung looked up at the girl above him, "She just up and left us."

"Look at us, Yunsung" Mina bluntly answered, "we don't exactly blend in here. It'd be one thing if they weren't actively looking for us. How long would it take you to find a group of Europeans back home?"

"We got away, didn't we?"

"Barely."

"How do you know that Taki woman got away?"

"She did." Mitsurugi spoke up, but he did not praise the ninja. In fact his voice held the hints of restrained fury that the ninja managed to get the fragment off him so quickly and easily. "When it comes to thievery and running, she's unmatched."

Mina closed her eyes and bit her lip to keep from making a smart ass remark; she was, quite frankly, getting tired of him insulting Taki every chance he got. Mina agreed that the ninja fleeing a battle and stealing was dishonorable, and the tale lowered Mina's respect for the ninja . . . but was there honor in Mitsurugi obsessing over it? Was bitching constantly about it honorable? She was dying to ask, but refrained.

"Hey, if you want, Mitsurugi," Yunsung began, "I'll be there with you so when she tries to run again I'll put her down with White Storm here. I owe her one."

"Knock it off," Mina rolled her eyes, and kicked the youth in the head, "You won't be there, so just shut up. You'll be back home."

"Ow! That's it!" Pissed off, Yunsung stood up despite the pain in his foot and got in Mina's face, "I'm not going back! I don't care whose daughter you are, if you give me one more condescending remark, if you so much as touch me again, you'll regret it! Got that, Mina!"

"Don't you threaten me—"

"Enough!" Mitsurugi cut both of them off. "If you alert the crew of this ship with your arguing, there'll be hell to pay. Is that understood?"

Mina looked from Mitsurugi to Yunsung and quietly, authoritively answered. "You are going home."

But Yunsung shook his head, and in a more controlled tone he challenged, "While you hunt for the Sword of Salvation?"

Mina's face went pale, and she looked away from him; that was her plan, but after today's fight with Taki . . . "I don't know."

"Right," Yunsung answered, disbelievingly. "You had this planned out from the time you handed me White Storm. You used me as an excuse so you can run away again without Hwang coming to your rescue again. You know what? You got more than you bargained for because unlike you, I'm going to find the Sword of Salvation."

Mina gripped Scarlet Thunder so hard from anger that her knuckles turned white, she cast a deathlook Yunsung's way. He was completely right . . . except now she honestly didn't know her intentions regarding Soul Edge.

"You're the one who should go home; you've taken advantage of your lineage to the point that it's spoiled you. You're a disgrace to master Myong, and you dishonor him every time you run away and come back empty handed. Well, if you get in my way, I won't hesitate to put you in your place. Go home, Mina. Got that? Go home."

Through her teeth, Mina answered, "When we get to port, you and me, Yunsung." Her father and Hwang would be proud of the discipline she used to contain her rage for now. When they weren't in danger of being caught by some authorities, "You and me. No one talks to me that way."

Mitsurugi remained silent, despite the fact their agendas conflicted with each other. He wasn't concerned. At this rate, they'd kill each other, leaving Soul Edge to him.


	5. Inescapable Link to all Evil

**Tainted Souls, Tainted Swords**

Chapter Five: Inescapable Link to all Evil

Midnight. Darkness reigned across all of Europe. Even the stars appeared blotted out, not from the hour but from the curse of Soul Edge. Somewhere on this continent, the sword's dark energy pulsated and ever so subtly beckoned for Mekki-maru and its master.

Having traveled Northward the better part of the day, the cloaked ninja now slept a shallow and restless sleep in tall grass of the Italian plains. She hated leaving herself vulnerable out in the open (especially since her injuries slowed her pace), but without so much as a farm or tree or a rise in the landscape that could qualify as a hill anywhere in sight, what else could she do? Taki slept, and dreamed . . .

. . . dreamed a terrible dream. A nightmare where the previous wielder of Soul Edge arose from his watery grave with the sword that Sophitia shattered seven years ago. Upon seeing his pale zombie-like flesh, the ninja merely narrowed her eyes, reached for Rekki-maru and stated "you're dead" with intentions of preserving the integrity of that statement.

Cervantes literally flew at her, Nirvana and Soul Edge becoming a whirling frenzy of death, but the ninja wasn't impressed nor surprised. She swiftly sidestepped, sweeping her cloak off her and throwing it over the charging pirate not unlike a metador. His swords penetrated the fabric and cut the garment to shreds. Taki hopped up and performed her patented riptide kick. One-two quickfire kicks to the Spaniard's face, putting him down on his back. On the final kick, Taki sprung off him and performed a back flip, landing safely on her feet.

The undead pirate wouldn't stay down, though. The moment Cervantes landed, he vanished and reappeared fifty feet directly above her. Gravity brought him down with unforgiving force. Both Soul Edge and Nirvana screamed towards Taki. "Same Cervantes," Taki commented in a bored tone. Rekki-maru went up to guard-impact his predictable (not to mention overused) maneuver. The swords collided, and to Taki's horror her beloved Rekki-maru shattered beneath the might of Soul Edge.

In that instant, metal fragments of her former sword tore through both fighters like shrapnel, and Cervantes' blades continued down cutting deep into her flesh. From her torso to just below her rib cage, Soul Edge and Nirvana sliced down to the bone on both her right and left side. The force and shock of the impact landed the bleeding ninja on her back . . . but in the dream, she felt no pain.

The pirate towered over her, appearing unphased by the shards of Rekki-maru buried in his body. His two swords took on a life of their own, flying in a circle around her. Her right hand went to her bleeding left shoulder, while her left hand went to the hilt of Mekki-maru. Gritting her teeth, she stood up while Cervantes' stood motionless. The swords continued to spin around her without attacking. And to make this world even more surreal, she found the shards of Rekki-maru and the gashes from Cervantes' blades, indeed, did hinder her movements . . . yet they still did not hurt.

She carefully observed the pattern and timing of the swirling Soul Edge and Nirvana swords, then all at once she sprang forward (barely avoiding the swords) and grabbed Cervantes, slipped behind him, Mekki-maru came free from its scabbard, and she meant to bury it in his throat. But her body froze up.

"Hahahahaha!" Cervantes laughed sinisterly. "You think you're the master of that sword?" He taunted, easily escaping her grasp now that she could not move. "No, you couldn't be more wrong my dear. Soul Edge masters you." And both of Cervantes' swords rocketed into the air. The Spaniard crossed his arms. "Like me, you are a slave, ninja."

Through her teeth, Taki managed to answer, "never."

Soul Edge and Nirvana came crashing down in front of her. If she could have, she would have jumped from the startling moment as they stuck in the ground and sent up a small dust cloud.

Circling his helpless prey like a vulture, Cervantes continued, "Soul Edge decides if you move, if you breathe. Soul Edge decides if we feel pain. Soul Edge decides if you live." Then the pirate stopped behind her, grabbed her by the pony tail and pulling her head back as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. And though Taki couldn't see it, she knew Cervantes smiled an evil, sinister smile, "And Soul Edge decides if you die. Soul Edge is your master. Kneel, Taki!"

"Never!"

"Kneel before your God!"

And Taki was completely and utterly powerless as Soul Edge channeled its evil through Mekki-maru, forced her to kneel before the evil sword and kiss its jagged and warped hilt like an obedient and devoted servant . . .

Jolting awake, Taki sat up, drew Rekki-maru, and slashed blindly at the night. A moment later, her senses caught up to her and the injuries showed their distaste for having their rest suddenly and abruptly disturbed by sending a shock wave of aches through her nerves all at once. For awhile there, she was feeling better too. On a sigh, Taki eased herself back down into a lying position and put one hand to massage her ribs where the axe-handle struck her earlier in the day. Relief passed over her like the waves of the ocean, just a nightmare and it was over now. She willed herself to calm down before unsheathing Mekki-maru.

"I know you can hear me," Perhaps some would call her crazy, but she always suspected an intelligence lay behind Soul Edge and all of its fragments. That through Mekki-maru, she could communicate with Soul Edge even if it were just simple feelings or emotions or basic ideas. Something could be transmitted from the fragments to the heart of the evil.

Now she was fully convinced.

Speaking softly, but firmly, she challenged the evil within the blade, "The most you can do is haunt my dreams. Enjoy it while you can. It won't be this way forever." She would master it completely. One day she would be immune to its calling and side effects with time and conditioning, allowing her to keep the sword out for any length of time. One day.

Knowing the futility of trying to sleep anymore tonight, Taki stood up with intentions of moving on. But before she packed up her things and donned her cloak, she made one last declaration to Mekki-maru, itself, "You're not strong enough to control me."

Somewhere in Europe, the two owners of Soul Edge felt a name enter their minds. Across the continent from each other, both men uttered that name in unison, "Taki."

---

In the darkness, he sensed a growing light like that of a single candle lighting numerous others. He stirred and opened his eyes, sitting up to a blurry dreamy world where one longs to return to sleep. No sooner had the Italian ruler sat up did he feel a gloved hand clamp across his mouth and force him back down, then he felt the blade to his throat.

"Make no mistake, I can kill you before a sound leaves your vocal chords," A rough voice quietly spoke. Its owner wore green (an extremely dark green that approached black) clothing designed for maximum maneuverability and stealth. A half mask covered the man's nose and mouth. From what little the noble could see of this intruder's face this man looked like he came from the same region as the female fighter in today's Coliseum fights. The Italian gulped. Removing his hand from the noble's mouth, the raspy voice continued. "I am a trained killer, but I have no reason to kill you. So don't give me a reason. Answer my questions, and you will live."

The Italian nodded.

"A woman fought in your river arena today. Was she Japanese?"

The noble nodded slightly, eyes still wide and watering from terror. Beads of sweat had formed on his brow. A scream waiting on his tongue; he wanted to scream, but fear kept it locked inside.

"I don't think she would give her name, so I doubt you could answer that. Perhaps her weapons? Tell me, does she still use that epee?"

"It was a short sword." The Italian answered, then quickly corrected himself, "No. Two—it was two swords. Petite swords." From his own experience questioning people, the noble knew this question was a test to make sure his information wasn't just BS, "I don't know what kind."

"Good. Good." The masked Japanese man nodded, satisfied with the answer, "Now I understand there is a minor conflict to our agendas. It is understandable, considering you're the circumstance. You wish her dead, correct?"

"Half a dozen assassins are tracking her as we speak." The Italian stated with just a hint of defiance and pride. "She's as good as dead."

Beneath the mask, the masked Japanese man smiled, "Taki will survive." Pulling the dagger away from the Italian noble's throat, the intruder moved for the open window. "But don't fear. I will find her, and she'll no longer be of concern to you. That I can assure you."

A moment later, he was gone.

---

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks for the feedback, everyone. I appreciate it. ;)


	6. The Fog

**Tainted Souls, Tainted Swords**

Chapter Six: The Fog

Taki patiently and persistently waded through the waist-high grass at a consistent pace. The pain in her back came and went, she'd get used to it for awhile and forget about it entirely . . . and then step wrong and find herself back at square one.

The early morning darkness rolled into dawn, which in turn rolled into afternoon, then evening again. Likewise, the landscape transformed from flat plains to vineyards to gentle hills and shallow valleys with the occasional narrow streams, then on the horizon she saw a forest in the distance. The air was hot and heavy with moisture, lending itself well to perspiration (much to Taki's dismay) and as the evening hours closed in the temperature dropped from unbearable heat to pleasant.

And strangely, throughout her entire trip she passed no settlements with a noteworthy population. Her rations ran low, and she'd rather not stop in a small village where everybody knows everybody and the whole population would notice an outsider. Not with what happened yesterday, which no doubt yielded a price on her head.

As dusk set in, she closed in on the outskirts of the creepy forest and noticed a slight fog within the thick labyrinth of trees and brush. A fog that emitted a faint emerald glow and pulsated. Spotting a sign about a hundred yards to the east, she veered off her course slightly until she could read its warning. "BEWARE OF GHOSTS! FOREST HAUNTED! DO NOT ENTER!"

Glancing to the green pulsating fog that quietly beckoned to her with malicious intentions. "No kidding?"

. . . already both Rekki-maru and Mekki-maru reacted to the supernatural activity, resonating their faint warnings to their master on an almost subliminal level. Even the fragment of Soul Edge she got off Yunsung reacted, calling to the power within the fog to rescue it from her clutches. Taki stepped onto the path, following it through the heart of the forest. The dying moments of daylight filtered in through the forest from the west, casting tall grotesquely-exaggerated shadows across her. The fog's density grew the deeper she ventured into the forest. And arising out of the silence, children's voices softly sang with the enthusiasm of a dirge:

"Midway upon the road of our life

I found myself within a dark wood,

for the right way had been missed."

The fog reduced visibility to about fourteen feet, still pulsating with evil and malice; however, the veteran demon hunter continued walking, seeming to pay the phenomena around her little attention or concern. In reality, though, she stayed ever alert to her surroundings and in tune with her beloved blades.

And like a demented hymn, the choir (voices of innocents) continued to sing in that dead lamenting tone.

"Ah . . . how hard a thing it is to tell

what this wild and rough and dense wood

was, which in thought renews the fear!"

Far to the west, the sun vanished behind the horizon. Only an hour of light left at the very most. Swirling around the tree configuration like a stalking serpent, the fog moved and flowed with a life of its own. It grew in density until her feet vanished from her sight, but the strange thing was that it had substance. Like it was more than just gaseous vapors, it felt like walking through ankle-deep water, yet she remained dry. The childrens song continued, and this time underscoring them Taki could swear she heard faint laughter.

"So bitter is it that death is little more.

. . . that death is little more."

Taki's pace slowed, but not by her choice. Now the fog had become so dense that she couldn't see below her waistline, and walking through it was like wading through water of the same depth. Slowly and sluggishly she moved; no way could she perform her acrobatic maneuvers while this fog constricted around her. "You want the fragment of Soul Edge," Taki called out, "Come and get it."

Silence.

Deeper and deeper, denser and denser, the fog proved more and more resistant by the minute until it wiped out visibility completely and gave her the sensation of total submersion. Her cloak fell to the earth beneath her, drifting gently in the thick air and both her swords came out of their scabbards. Taki focused the energies around her, channeling it into her blades. A second later both swords flashed with fire and she slashed at the fog on the cry, "Begone!" And the powers unleashed drove the fog back so it formed a bubble around her, permitting her to move normally again.

And instead of closing in on her again, the fog pulled back even further revealing a nine-foot tall grotesque humanoid standing ten feet in front of her. It had long flowing black hair, and wore the tattered remains of a black robe. Its eyes and mouth appeared stitched shut, yet it seemed keenly aware of her position. The monster flexed its hands, and seven-inch-long claws emerged then retracted again. Its flesh was pale, and it did not seem to breath. "Impressive." It complimented seemingly telepathically in an expressionless tone, "I am Varelli Tenebrarum, and you . . . your head will make a worthy trophy."

The demon gestured, and the fog dissipated entirely. Taki found herself standing in the center of a massacred village. On either side were rows upon rows of pikes, bearing the severed heads of the poor souls who used to live here. Taki's heart sank as the scene stirred deep and painful memories within her, and a rage welled up inside her; however, it only manifested in a hateful glare she cast at the demon. A glare that promised retribution on her terms.

Tenebrarum narrowed its eyes. It wanted her to attack out of anger, and run headfirst into its trap just like every other fool who wandered into these woods. This woman strangely knew better. "Are you afraid?" Again it attempted to play with her emotions, "Why do you just stand there _little girl_? Attack! Avenge these souls! Attack!"

Crossing her arms, Taki answered, "You first." She sensed the beast's desperation as it scowled, and made a vain attempt to read her mind in search of a weakness. Her will was too great for the demon; her training had prepared her well for such tactics. The veteran demon hunter smirked, "You're the one whose afraid."

"Smug little bitch, I fear the potency of your blades," It corrected, feeling the darkness of Soul Edge before it. Oh the destruction it could bring with that mighty blade, even the mere fragment in her sword. "Without them, you're nothing! Nothing! They are the source of your power. Make no mistake about that."

"Only a strong soul can master such powerful weapons." She nonchalantly answered.

"You delude yourself! A single strike by the stroke of luck will yield you a victory. There's no skill there. Hide behind your swords, woman!" With a burst of flame, a very heavy barbed chain materialized in the demons hands, "It doesn't matter! I will crush you! I—"

Having sent the demon into a rabid frenzy of verbal assaults, Taki quietly intoned, "I'm through with words," and launched her attack. Charging straight at the demon, taking pleasure in his horrified expression as he set off the trap a moment too late. From beneath the dirt and grass and fallen leaves a net, woven out of hooked chains, flew towards the canopy. By its residue, it no doubt has ripped many a humans to shreds, and would have tore up Taki as well had it actually caught her.

The demon stepped back in disbelief. It swung its barbed chain, hoping to take her head off; however, Taki gracefully leapt into the air and flipped behind the demon. As her feet touched the earth, Rekki-maru and Mekki-maru swiped through the air and tasted demon flesh. It unleashed an inhuman cry as it crumbled to its hands and knees at Taki's feet. "Curse those swords! I am beaten!"

The swords returned to their scabbards, Taki instinctively began shaping invisible energies with the movements of her hands and fingertips. Her mind stayed locked in its focus as she channeled the power to seal the demon away.

"Wait!" Tenebrarum pleaded, and a thin layer of fog arose about two inches from the ground, blanketing the demon's hands and his weapon. "I can offer you power to compliment those weapons. Spare me, and . . ."

Taki refused to acknowledge the defeated demon's pleas. Her eyes never left the deceptive demon, while she performed the final motions. She saw through his lies, and knew he intended to lash out. But Taki didn't realize where the attack would come from. Beneath her, under the earth, a barbed chain snaked through the ground, burrowing up behind her. Meanwhile, Tenebrarum continued to tempt her, "I can give you the world! I can make you unstoppable!"

The ninja filled her lungs to command the monster to begone, and before she could banish the hell spawn the chain burst from the ground and shot around her legs. The demon pulled his end of the chain, and the hooks dug into her flesh and pulled Taki off her feet. Riding instinct, Taki brought her hands up to break her fall, and the moment she hit the ground the fog filled the forest as if a smoke bomb had gone off.

And just as suddenly, Taki drove back the supernatural smoke cloud to find herself alone. The demon had fled. The ninja waited a good three minutes before lowering her guard, and she looked to her legs tangled and hooked and she sighed. Getting free was going to be a pain in more ways than one.

. . . and the fragment of Soul Edge was missing.

---

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

No, the children's song is not my work. And yes, it is the opening Canto from "Inferno" by _Dante Alighieri_.

I'm a little torn on the rating (whether the violence should earn it a T or an M). I grew up on violent entertainment so it's never bothered me, but I'm respectful to other people's tastes. What do you, the readers, think?

Thanks again for the feedback. :)


	7. Lesson in Respect

**Tainted Souls, Tainted Swords**

Chapter Seven: Lesson in Respect

The Assassin's bare fingertips reached down and touched the crimson stained earth, and when he pulled his hand back to examine the bloody dirt he discovered a small piece of torn fabric stuck to his hand. Fabric as red as the blood that soaked it. He allowed it to fall and drift back to the depression in the soil. A struggle had occurred recently, far more recently than whatever wiped out this village, "She was here."

The second Assassin who had been kneeling beside the first one held up the severed hook that had apparently belonged to the chain along with a dozen other hooks like it. As the first Assassin took the small barbed item, the second assassin gestured towards the small pile of them and commented, "I don't envy the time she had getting these out."

Glancing over the sheer number of hooks correctly removed, "If the pain from these didn't cripple her progress, taking the time to get these out without doing more damage would."

The two looked at each other and agreed, "We have her now." Unspoken was the relief that they had found some concrete proof of their target's direction. Out of the four infidels who made a scene in the Riverport Arena and managed to escape, this Japanese woman was the only one their employer was interested in spending the money on to have tracked down and killed. The service of the assassins guild was expensive, and Assassins of this caliber even more so.

Little did they know that Taki would prove the most difficult to track, and the most difficult to sneak up on.

Both Assassin stood up and mounted their horses alongside their four fellow Assassins, each of whom carried a sword with a heavy curved blade, "Stay sharp." One of them began.

The second one finished, "The wench could not have gotten far."

Unspoken: they hoped and prayed she couldn't have gotten far . . . Lord knows they won't collect this paycheck at the rate they were going before stumbling upon this.

---

On a dock in southern France, Mitsurugi left the Koreans without saying good-bye. Not that it mattered since the two were so fed up with one another they wouldn't have heard him. The moment Mina and Yunsung snuck off the boat, they headed for the first unoccupied pier they could see. The Samurai headed into the city, looking for information on the location of Soul Edge and perhaps a quick and simple mercenary job to earn some pay.

In the back of his mind, he hoped these two would get their differences out of their system and return to their home. The powers behind Soul Edge were dark and powerful ones, and these kids were not up to the challenge . . . especially with how divided they are now. Besides, they had no business getting involved with Soul Edge in the first place.

The two Koreans faced each other alone on the platform that extended about fifty feet into the Mediterranean Sea. Yunsung cracked his knuckles, then brought out White Storm and warmed up with a few weapon drills. "Don't blame me if you get hurt."

Mina, by contrast, didn't warm up. She stood in a readied stance, and simply answered, "Likewise."

Adrenaline and endorphins flowing, the assortment of cuts and scrapes they acquired during their escape from the Italian Riverport faded out of their consciousness (even the wound to Yunsung's foot.) Later, it'd all come back with a vengeance, but for now they were insignificant.

Back on the shore, a few of the workers noticed the standoff and pointed the scene out to their friends. The two Koreans would have an audience (not that they cared).

Yungsung begins with a charge across the platform, and the second he's within range Mina swings low at his legs once, knocking one leg out from under him. Yunsung barely keeps his balance, but Mina spins around and swipes again and pulls him off his feet entirely. The Korean man lands abruptly on his butt, and laughter explodes from the distant spectators. Mina doesn't stop, she hops forward and drives the staff end of her zanbatou into his gut with as much force as she could summon.

"Oof!" He coughs violently, the wind knocked from his lungs with that blow. White Storm swipes harmlessly at Scarlet Thunder, but doesn't connect with anything.

The pitiful strike earned about a half dozen unintelligible remarks from the rough crowd ashore, most of which along the lines of "what was that!" "you fight like a girl!" "no wonder he's getting his ass kicked!" "how 'bout you come over here baby and fight a real man?"

Yunsung slowly and cautiously rose to his feet, slightly distracted by the insults aimed at him, struggling to regain a steady breathing pattern. He began circling her . . . until the rude awakening that the pier wasn't wide enough dawned on him. Maybe he could circle if her weapon didn't have twice the range of his. 'Damn her,' he thought to himself, casting a hateful glare at her. 'Hiding behind that thing's range—'

With lightning speed, she thrust the blunt end of Scarlet Thunder in his direction and nailed him square in the face like a billiard hitting a ball with a cuestick. His head snapped back and he backed himself nearer the edge of the pier. Another explosion of distracting laughter One hand rose to his face, and when he looked down he saw blood. 'If I could just get that thing away from her,' he thought to himself.

"Running out of room, Yunsung," Mina pointed out, as she cautiously but consistently advanced slowly working the kid closer to the edge. She was completely focused, completely unphased by the catcalls, sexist comments, and other remarks the jerks on the docks were making. Her mind stayed locked on one thing: another twenty feet, and he'll be swimming. "Maybe if you ask nicely and give me White Storm back, we can stop this here."

Seventeen feet from the edge, now, and fully aware that he needed to do something and quick. "You're really asking for it, you know that?" On the final words, he launched another sudden attack – he leapt forward with White Storm leading his charge. Once again, though, Scarlet Thunder's superior range defeated him. Mina easily backed off so White Storm never had a prayer at hitting her, and the second Yunsung's feet touched the platform Scarlet Thunder slid between his legs, knocked them apart, and then Mina smashed him in the groin.

No laughter. No comments. All the men on the shore watched with dropped jaws and disbelief. Soon after they'd go back to work, minding their own business.

White Storm fell out of Yunsung's grasp as he curled up and weeped like a baby. Mina finished out the lesson by poll vaulting up on Scarlet Thunder, and then she brought the weapon down with tremendous force across Yunsung's back. The man moaned weakly.

Mina collected White Storm, then slid her foot under the broken boy to roll him on his back. Then she knelt over him, pinning his arms with her body's weight, as she pressed White Storm to his throat. "You run away in a time of war, taking my family's sword – that makes you a thief and a deserter—"

"You gave White Storm—"

"That was my mistake, and I plan on correcting it by bringing you back in one piece." She confessed, unapologetically, "The only reason I don't finish you right here for what you said to me is because this is my own fault. The Sword of Salvation is Evil, Yunsung . . . it was stupid of us to chase it."

"Says some Japanese girl—"

On a frustrated sigh, Mina proceeded to spell out the obvious. "Her name is Taki, and she spared us when she didn't have to. In fact, she defied those damn Italians to let us live for crying out loud. Do you think anyone associated with the invasion is going to do that for a couple of Koreans searching for Soul Edge? Hm?"

"I don't trust her."

"Well I do." She said, "And maybe you didn't notice, but your friend Mitsurugi was also Japanese. Or is he immune to your prejudice since he didn't humiliate you in front of a couple hundred spectators." Kinda like how Mina just humiliated him in front of a few dozen spectators just now.

"Mitsurugi didn't abandon us." He challenged with flawed logic, but that never matters in the heat of an argument, "Taki did."

Mina shook her head, dismissing that entire tangent. She had a gut feeling his prejudice against Taki didn't come from her being Japanese, it came from her beating him in three moves. And having just won a single sided fight in front of an audience, convincing him didn't seem very promising. Instead, she pursued another topic: "Haven't you listened to the stories in these parts? The Evil Seed? The Nightmare? Our Sword of Salvation is Soul Edge – the same sword responsible for these atrocities. The sword might win the war for us, but it'll bring about our own destruction too. Is that what you want?"

"You don't believe that, Mina." Yunsung grumbled. Through that whole speech, something about her voice gave it away. "You're trying to convince both of us, aren't you?"

Narrowing her eyes, Mina glared. This would be so much easier if she, herself, knew what to think of Soul Edge. Truth was: Mina wanted to see for herself. She tried unconvincingly to dismiss it, "It doesn't matter," and after a moment, Mina eased off Yunsung, "I'm going home, and I'm not going to drag you back because you're bigger than me and weigh too much. White Storm on the other hand, is coming back with me. Feel free to tag along or go off searching for Soul Edge without a weapon. I don't care." And Seung Mina prayed he wouldn't call her bluff because she honestly would not let him go but at the same time had no clue how she would get him back to Korea. Maybe she could use her good looks and feminine charms to persuade some primitive beast of burden (one of those dock workers) to help.

"Fine." Yunsung agreed.

So Mina stood, but she didn't help him up. She slung White Storm across her back, put Scarlet Thunder over her shoulder and then she headed towards the city's square, "C'mon. Let's see if we can find another arena. We're gonna need to earn some money and get supplies." The journey East would be a very long and taxing one.

Yunsung followed her around the city, but they couldn't find a Coliseum anywhere. Apparently in these parts Coliseum-style battles were illegal and inhuman and uncivilized, but _duels_ were something completely different for reasons Mina and Yunsung couldn't figure out. So Mina challenged some wealthy French swordsman to a "duel" and made a wager they couldn't possibly pay if they lost.

Fortunately, she did not lose. And as Yunsung watched, he observed that once again Mina capitalized (or as he saw it "hid") behind her weapon's greater range to defeat her opponent with ease. Her weapon swept through the air with grace and precision, landing exactly where Mina needed it to be for all of her offensive and defensive maneuvers. And all the while, Yunsung grumbled to himself about how his fight would have turned out differently if she didn't have such an advantage with the range. His eyes stayed locked onto White Storm which hung from Seung Mina's back.

He really wanted to see her lose and lose miserably. He wanted to see a weapon with greater range than Scarlet Thunder beat her down. Or maybe just see how she'd do fist on fist, him versus her with no weapons. Something. And then he remembered France was a long ways from Korea . . . sooner or later they're bound to meet up with someone who'll teach her a lesson, and he'd be there to enjoy it and get White Storm back.

And who knows, maybe the Sword of Salvation was somewhere between here and home. Maybe they'll run into it on their journey . . .

---

A man in a dark green, knelt amidst the same village Taki battle Tenebrarum in, the same spot where several hours earlier the assassins had knelt. His very light attire, nearly black in its dark shade of green, blew slightly in the wind. A katana was mounted on his back; he need not draw the supernatural weapon to sense the lingering aura of evil from the demon who fought Taki. He was concerned with something else entirely. His trained eyes stared down at the hoof prints left by the assassins who followed the kunoichi.

Counting up the number of prints, he whispered, "Only six?" With quite a bit of amusement, he shook his head and continued the thought, "I hope they catch up to you, Taki. And I hope I get to see it. I could use a good laugh."

--- ---

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Wow, the 2nd longest chapter is the one that gets "too short" comments. Weird. If the chapters can be done longer, I won't be timid anymore about making them too long, but one thing you can (hopefully) count on me for is to keep something short instead of writing lots of words just to inflate the length.

Anyway, thanks for the feedback, and I will wind up putting it as an M rated story in the near future (probably with one of the next updates).


	8. The Assassins

**Tainted Souls, Tainted Swords**

Chapter Eight: The Assassins

A living breathing evil, a demon, Varelli Tenbrarum, held onto the dark shard of the soul-consuming blade, quietly communing on a telepathic level with the injured sword that did, indeed, have a consciousness of its own. "She shall suffer for her crimes against you, my master. Her and all the others. The shattering of Soul Edge will be the undoing of its enemies."

The fragment responded to Tenebrarum's words, it gave off a menacing crimson glow with a sinister aura that felt euphoric to the monster holding it. With the fragment and by Soul Edge's will, Tenebrarum could strangely feel the essence of some of the other holders of the shards. The power was limited, dependant entirely upon the number of fragments, distance, and Soul Edge's willingness to aid to its holders. Smaller fragments could only be detected nearby, such as the ninja who merged a fragment with Mekki-maru. As for the nearly completed swords themselves, Tenebrarum could sense the far away knight and pirate who held them, he felt their history and frustrations, their pains, their furies, and more.

Soul Edge wanted to reform, and whether the holders of the fragments knew it or not . . . they would all be drawn to one another. Soul Edge would unite them, one way or the other, and if it could, it would use its servants to undermine its enemies and even the rival blade, Soul Calibur. Now the sword was no longer one single blade, but a network of fragments containing sentient evil that can learn the strengths and weaknesses of all who hold it. And Soul Edge can put this knowledge to use.

The demon closed his fist around the fragment of Soul Edge, staring through his sealed eyes in the direction of a relatively close Mekki-maru, whose holder had been a thorn in the evil's side for some time. A threat that would soon be no more. Already the blade had planted the seeds to destroy this troublesome kunoichi, and Tenebrarum would execute the sword's revenge. "Mortals," it rhetorically said via telepathy, "they have to sleep sometime . . ."

---

Day bled into dusk, and eventually into night. The Assassins gathered together and stopped to make camp before the light faded completely. The trail of the ninja proved incredibly difficult to follow. These six professionals, however, had the training to notice subtleties that most trackers would have missed. Even still, without optimal lighting not even they could track Taki. She had left no footprints and scarcely any markings to follow. In fact, her struggle with the demon left the only real traceable sign of her presence.

'She's good,' The Assassins told themselves, 'but we're better. Two more days, at the most.' Then they'd return with the wench's head on a silver platter for their employer.

Withdrawing food and water and other necessities from their saddlebags, they secured the horses and settled down for a night's rest with minimal conversation. No fire. Twine with bells encircled the camp, along with strategically placed caltrops. Three watches of two men each (one to watch the camp, the other to watch only the horses since they didn't secure their food out of wild animal's reach.) None ventured more than an arm's reach away from their own sword, and none went off alone.

And less than fifty feet away, a tired Taki (in her cloak) lay motionless in the brush carefully observing through tired bloodshot eyes. She knew before she ever left the Riverport arena that someone would come after her, and anticipated them tailing her which needless to say helped tremendously in noticing them before they noticed her. She was also aware that the Fu Ma had not given up their pursuit, and perhaps if she weren't so tired and preoccupied with these Assassins, she would notice the threat lurking uncomfortably closeby in the forest . . .

Laying low the better part of today in this very spot, she watched and waited for the Assassins to come through while fighting the fierce temptation to drift to sleep. 'I have to devastate them, cripple them, with my first strike,' Taki thought, mentally developing a plan as best as her tired mind would permit. 'otherwise they'll overwhelm me in a heartbeat.' she recited to herself. From the formation these men used, she could deduct how challenging they would be. They traveled along the trail in pairs, and each pair stayed at least three minutes apart from the others to trick impatient attackers who think they only faced two Assassins. 'Confident enough to try it, and still alive so it must work.'

Furthermore, they took several precautions to ensure the security of their rest. Unfortunately for Taki, the Assassin guarding the camp (in black attire) and the Assassin guarding the horses (in a dull gray-ish blue attire) were too far apart to strike simultaneously but were still within eye sight of each other. Killing one would alert the other, and she'd still have to tangle with five assassins. Taki could take out two, maybe three . . . but five? 'Think Taki, think.'

She really needed to sleep, but not when they were so close. She had to finish them off first, then rest.

"That's it!" She whispered to herself. Four of the six assassins slept in a relatively tight cluster so the guard on watch could oversee all four of them at once and use a minimum number of caltrops and tripwires. "They expect me to attack the guards on duty first. This could work."

And so, Taki slowly crawled through the brush, careful to stay out of sight, circling around the encampment until the four sleeping assassins lay between her and the wakeful guard. Laying flat, her cloak still hiding her (swords and all), she inched her way closer very carefully. She couldn't afford to catch their attention with movement or sound.

Twenty feet away, still moving forward. Closer and closer. Taki felt the anxiety of flowing adrenaline pumping through her veins, waking up her muscles for the coming battle so for the first time today she did not feel the temptation of sleep. Very awake now (mercifully), and very focused . . . too focused. She knew full well that if they caught her preparing this attack she would not survive. If she failed to get the first strike she would not survive. If she neglected any detail, she would not survive. Fortunately, she hunted demons for a living, an occupation that had even less room for error. Ten feet to go.

Taki veered off course just slightly to take cover behind a large tree, then she eased herself up into a crouching position (and indeed, her legs still hurt from the hooks from a few days ago) and unfastened her cloak so when she took off it would slide off her body without an effort. Closing her eyes, her breathing remained controlled and calm as she flexed her fingers before reaching for Rekki-maru and Mekki-maru, soundlessly sliding the swords from their scabbards while remaining behind her cover. In her mind, she mapped out where the Assassins lay down the tripwire, the caltrops, and planned her single strike. Opening her eyes again, Taki licked her lips, then waited for both watchmen to scan the forest opposite her at the same time.

But one watchman was always looking her way. She waited calmly, listening to her own breathing and feeling every heartbeat within her chest. Her every muscle ready to spring on a moment's notice, and she could feel the evil pulse of Mekki-maru, beckoning her to sink its blade into them right now. The Assassins never both looked away at the same time. A minute passed. Two minutes. Five. Fifteen. Thirty.

All the while, the sword's temptations grew stronger and stronger, proving harder and harder to resist. Taki's grip on the sword tightened until her knuckles turned white. She would put it away, but couldn't afford to suddenly draw it later - the sound of the sword coming out of its scabbard would be all the warning they needed. She couldn't afford to draw it during the attack . . . then again, could she afford to keep it out much longer?

The black-attired Assassin who guarded the camp looked away.

Mekki-maru never spoke, per se, but she felt its overwhelming desire to charge. It compelled her to go. It wanted Souls, and it no doubt wanted to get her killed.

And now the Assassin in Gray looked away.

The cloak flowed from her, revealing her torn red outfit that hugged her body tightly. Taki felt time slow to a crawl in her mind, measured by the beat of her heart as she sprang from behind the tree, and before she could reach her full speed she gracefully leapt over the trapped trip wire. No bells to sound their warnings. Only the sound of the wind. One foot touched down, and Taki leapt again this time over the caltrops. Across the camp, the horses watched this dark shape come out of the night. Instinctively they reared back as far as they could, but by that time Taki's feet touched the earth again between two of the sleeping assassins. Using the momentum from her charge, Taki brought Mekki-maru and Rekki-maru down upon her victims.

With the next passing heartbeat, Taki sprang forward (ripping her swords out of the dying Assassins who made some sickening gurgling sound). In that same moment, the Assassin in black and the Assassin in Gray (the two guarding the camp) turned their attention to the crimson shape that startled the horses. In unison they began calling out, "Breach!" as they drew their curved assassin blades.

The watchman succeeded in giving their sleeping companions just enough time to see the ninja descend upon them and plunge her sword into their chests. As blood flowed to their open mouths, the already defeated men managed to draw their own swords. Again she ripped her swords free as she suddenly changed directions and sprinted towards the horses. The dying assassins swiped, one managing to put a very shallow cut on Taki's leg (so shallow that it would hardly bleed.)

The Gray-clad Assassin intercepted Taki, swiped at her but she rolled safely past him to the horses where she cut the spooked animals free. They reared up, kicked, and in a stroke of insanity Taki seemed to duck beneath the heavy animals and she disappeared into the confusion of hooves, darkness, and flying dirt.

"Did you see that?" The Gray Assassin yelled in shock as their animals darted out of the campsite. Who is stupid enough to get under a frightened horse! He expected to find a trampled woman at his feet, but found nothing.

"Enough! Just go try to get two of the horses," and the Black-clad Assassin turned his back to his partner, surveying what was left of the camp and calculating the next best move. Hopefully one of the animals didn't go too far. The Assassin could hear the footsteps of the other Assassin heading off . . . alone. "Wait! No!" Spinning around, he looked in time to see the Assassin in Gray fall to the earth with a sword in his chest.

Taki knelt down, never taking her eyes off the survivor, and she pulled her sword free. She twirled it before returning both swords into their scabbards for her typical en guard stance, and she did one of those double-eye brow inflections. "Even professionals make mistakes in the midst of chaos."

He narrowed his eyes at her. Their gazes met, and Taki realized without words that giving him the opportunity of escaping with his life was out of the question. Her trail would run cold before he could return with reinforcements, and his wasn't a profession that allowed him to return empty handed. Her left hand had stayed on the hilt of Mekki-maru, which she kept drawn about an inch out of its scabbard. An inch was all the demon sword needed . . .

Right on cue, the Assassin unleashed an ear-shattering war cry as he charged her with intentions of cutting her in two, provoked by the rage and desperation in the moment. The Assassin blade came down with soul-shattering force, and Taki halfheartedly parried with Rekki-maru, and without thinking she thrust Mekki-maru with intentions of piercing his heart—but the Assassin's strike turned into a feint. He easily positioned his assassin blade to defended against Meki-Maru, then slashed to cut Taki in two. She barely got Rekki-maru into a position to block, but the Assassin wasn't through. He stepped up onto her, then kicked her viciously in the back of the head and put Taki face-first in the dirt. The curved assassin blade came down, and Taki instinctively rolled out of the way and managed to deliver a kick to the face of the assassin.

"Even professionals make mistakes," he echoed her previous remark, fixing his mask.

Wiping the dirt from her face, she returned both swords to their place and gestured for him to come, "Let's try that again."

"As you wish," and he charged a second time, sword flying exactly as before. Taki defended the exact same way, he feinted exactly the same way, and this time she rolled under his counter-attack instead of trying to block. And when she popped up from the wind-roll to deliver her vertical-slash attack, the Assassin was waiting – he deflected the blow and in the same motion roundhouse kicked Taki hard enough to take her off her feet once again. She landed harshly on her backside, and scrambled to rise before he could take advantage of the situation. The assassin, however, allowed her to rise while he cracked his knuckles one at a time.

"Yeah, all six would have made short work of me," Taki commented under her breath, thankful she was able to take out as many as she did from the get-go. "Hell, two would have made short work of me if I didn't catch them off guard."

And for the third time, the Assassin charged but what would the variation be this time around? He was smart enough not to do the exact same attack string twice, or would he just to defy her expectation? As he came within range, Taki trusted her battle instinct and closed her eyes. The assassin's sword came down, and both Rekki-maru and Mekki-maru came out to meet it. This time, he did not feint exactly as Taki had expected. Her twin swords scissored around his, and with a mere flick of the wrist she disarmed him.

And then she buried Mekki-maru into the center of his chest. Taki let go of the sword, letting the corpse fall lifelessly to the ground, and she stared at her open hand in bewilderment. "That wasn't me . . ." or was it? Had her battle instincts become so refined that she reacted naturally to the situation? Had she faced so many men foolishly charging her that the response was automatic and thoughtless . . . or was it the sword's will? Did she land that blow, or did Soul Edge? Taki honestly didn't know as her gaze traveled from her hand down to the sword.

And to her horror, in this moment when she questioned how much power Soul Edge had over her, the rush of the adrenaline faded, which allowed exhaustion to hit her like a train. She couldn't fight anymore. In the middle of the camp, Taki passed out, collapsing into a pathetic heap on the outskirts of the camp.

Rekki-maru, and only Rekki-maru, cried out with its warning which fell upon unconscious ears. A shallow fog came in, flowing over the forest floor, covering Taki like a hypnotic body of water. Then a discolored hand gripped Mekki-maru, pulling it free from the assassin's dead body, while the sword's master lay helpless and oblivious . . .

--- --- ---

author's note: thanks for the feedback, everyone. 


	9. Betrayed

**Tainted Souls, Tainted Swords**

Chapter Nine: Betrayed.

The taste of Soul Edge's power. At last the demon felt the sword's dark energy, and found the rumors were all true. Soul Edge was the ultimate weapon for his kind, for beings of pure evil. It was wonderful—

"Get away from her, demon," A raspy male voice called from across the corpse-filled camp. A ninja drew his katana which resonated with a similar power to Rekki-maru. But unlike the members of the Fu Ma who sought the renegade before him, he came with a peaceful proposition for Taki. "That sword belongs to her, not you."

With its back to the ninja, paying the newcomer little attention, Varelli Tenebrarum let out an euphoric sigh as the fragment of Soul Edge within Mekki-maru responded almost affectionately to its new wielder. "Soul Edge belongs to no one," it began telepathically, and the stitches binding the creatures eyes and mouth shut transformed into tiny serpents, wiggled their way to freedom, and as it opened its black eyes for the first time it spoke through its own deep and ominous voice, "we belong to it."

"I am Kado of the Fu Ma—"

"Perfect," Dark energy pulsated from Mekki-maru, traveling in waves up Tenebrarum's arm and into his consciousness. And with that dark energy came the sword's experience in battle, every tactic Taki ever used the sword for, and the knowledge of the Fu Ma's strategies against demons all translated to Tenebrarum with crystal clarity. Pointing Mekki-maru at Kado, the monster called out with absolute confidence and overflowing arrogance, "Come, Fu Ma Shinobi! We thirst . . . ."

In that instant, Tenebrarum's fog engulfed Kado completely. Like with Taki, it utterly blinded him and resisted his movements. But Kado (like Taki) was unfazed, unintimidated, and unimpressed. Twirling the katana into position to focus his mind and summon the energy to dispel the fog, his vast experience in similar situations made the maneuver instinctive and automatic.

But Tenebrarum's arm shot out of the abyssal fog, gripping Kado's wrist with tremendous strength (enough strength to snap the ninja's bones with a loud cracking sound that echoed throughout the forest.) Thanks to Mekki-maru, the demon knew precisely where, when, and how to strike. Kado let out a scream as his katana fell from his grasp from the shock and abruptness of the blow, and before the katana could touch the earth Tenebrarum ended the fight. Kado felt a rush of blood flooded into his mouth as his own ally's sword, Mekki-maru, penetrated his heart. The ninja fell to his knees. The fog cleared around him just enough to let him see the gloating demon standing over him.

Kado spit out a mouthful of blood, but still found himself unable to speak as Tenebrarum leaned closer and declared, "Pitiful. Your death was boring. But her's? Heh, heh, heh." Suddenly the monster twisted Mekki-maru within Kado, just to send a wave of agony to his face and take delight in the beaten man's expression of pain. "Now that I know the power I wield, Mekki-maru wishes her destruction to be . . . legendary." And the beast laughed in the defeated ninja's face, kicking the man off its sword. The fog parted a path to Taki who still slept, oblivious to the battle and bloodshed around her.

"Ta . . . ki . . ." he breathed, reaching out for his fellow Fu Ma clan member baffled at the thought she could sleep through this. With the remainder of his strength, Kado began dragging himself across the camp, over the bodies of the dead assassins, to Taki. He couldn't fail his mission. Kado had to tell her of the troubles back home. Of the spell that had come over their master. "Wake . . . up . . ."

"She can't," Tenebrarum taunted, kicking Taki so she rolled onto her back. "Soul Edge has worn her down to a state of helplessness. Her mind and body are exhausted. You weak mortals cannot function without sleep." The demon knelt over her, placed the flat of Mekki-maru's blade to her forehead, and lowered his forehead so it touched the sword. "Sleep sweet Shinobi, sleep and dream."

"Toki . . . needs . . . us . . ." And then on his dying breath, Kado screamed, "Taki!" But she couldn't hear him.

Taki's face contorted slightly, her hands slowly started gripping the dirt and leaves beneath her, and her body squirmed and tensed up as if she were having a night terror. "Dream, Taki, and let's explore your fears together." With Mekki-maru at his disposal, Taki had no way to resist the demons' mental probing. She was entirely at his mercy, and, oh, how it made Tenebrarum and the essence of Soul Edge laugh . . .

---

In the slums of a small city in Eastern France, bodies littered the vast second story room. Dead at the hands of a Japanese mercenary, Mitsurugi, who stood in the center of the chamber, holding a rifle in his hand. He shook his head in disgust, unimpressed with these overrated pipes of gunpowder, and he sliced the thing in two (barrel and all) with Shishi-Oh.

His employer stood in the doorway, observing Mitsurugi's actions as he leaned into the doorframe with his arms crossed. A cigarette hung loosely from his mouth, and an epee hung at the man's side. He wore somewhat flamboyant clothing. "You don't like guns, non?"

"You might say that."

"Heh, heh, heh, I don't blame you." The sleazy Frenchman slipped into the room, stepping over the corpses and making his way around the room, "I trained with guns for years. 'Weapons of the future' they said, 'will change war forever' they said. Rubbish!" Taking a long drag on his cigarette, he exhaled a stream of smoke before continuing, "They're loud as armageddon, and you need fifty men to hit one target. No stealth. No strategy. They're horrible weapons."

Mitsurugi nodded, "That's becoming more and more apparent with every encounter." Every passing day convinced him more and more that Tanegashima's victory came from pure luck. Nothing more.

"Guns are for cowards who can afford an army. A real man proves himself in a duel with swords." The Frenchman kicked a rifle out of his way, and flicked some ash unto the body nearby, "This rubbish will never replace the sword. It's a fad that will fade out. You'll see. A hundred years from now these mistakes will be forgotten from history entirely. You can take my word on that."

"The sooner the better."

The Frenchman laughed, "I like you, foreigner. I like you. In fact, there's an issue West of here I need resolved by capable hands." From his breast-pocket, he produced a slip of paper with something scribbled in french. "Some state officials have gotten desperate, so it looks to be one hell of a paycheck" He held out the paper to Mitsurugi.

But the Japanese man shook his head, "I don't plan on staying in France that long."

"So be it," the Frenchman shrugged as he knelt over the dead leader of this rebellious faction that Mitsurugi had slain, and he took a sack full of metal that clinked together. Tossing it to Mitsurugi, "As we agreed, the fragments of the Soul Edge."

Mitsurugi caught the small bag, then cocked his head to the side, "You knew?"

"Oui. I knew what they were, and they mean nothing to me." Removing the cigarette from his mouth, he flicked the ashes onto the dead man's face beneath him while continuing his conversation. "I must confess, and you must forgive me: at first I mistook you for a unskilled fool like all the others who believe in the Soul Edge. The infamous Soul Edge." And he made a mock grand-gesture (paper still in one hand, cigarette still in the other), "the great and mighty spirit sword, Soul Edge!" Then he just shook his head at the whole mumbo-jumbo, as his eyes came to rest upon the corpse beneath him. In disgust, he pressed the lit cigarette into the corpse's eye. "Where did Soul Edge get you, you dead bastard? Huh!"

The Frenchman spit on the dead man's face, and there was little doubt of his feelings towards these rebels. Back to Mitsurugi, the mercenary stood up to keep talking, "And I thought you would get yourself killed and I not have to worry about payment. But non, you are skilled and you are no fool which makes me wonder what magnificently persuasive lie was told to you to make you seek the sword? Here."

The Frenchman then removed a money pouch from his own belt and handed it to Mitsurugi, which Mitsurugi reluctantly accepted (never breaking his gaze from this man's eyes)

He put his hand on the Samurai's shoulder, "Take my advice, foreigner, and I give this only because you are the only man I've met who would be a worthy challenge in a duel. Forget Soul Edge. Men like you and I are a rare breed. The men around me seek after guns because they are lazy dogs and want to be lethal without training. They seek after Soul Edge, because they want power without dedication, without focusing their mind. A good sword is vital for a warrior if he wishes to call upon all of his skills, but no sword can make a warrior any more of a warrior than he already is. I believe Soul Edge is a well crafted weapon, perhaps the best weapon ever forged, but I laugh at the thought that it has supernatural power. Ha!"

Mitsurugi looked down at his own sword, Shishi-Oh, resting peacefully in its scabbard. Indeed, the sword showcased incredible craftsmanship, and had never failed him. This man's words made sense, in fact it made more sense than the legend of Soul Edge in Mitsurugi's mind. Did he pursue Soul Edge because he wanted easily obtained power, or did he pursue Soul Edge because it was the only sword that could reflect his true potential? Had his skill outgrown Shishi-Oh's craftsmanship? Or was he committing the same sin as Tanegashima and the other dogs who relied on guns? "I'll think about what you've said." Mitsurugi said quietly, as he started to leave.

But the voice of his employer stopped him, "Strength spawns from constant challenge. The unchallenged warrior's skills shall atrophy." The man lingered, waited for Mitsurugi to face him before finishing, "Even if the stories of Soul Edge are true, if the sword were so great it handed every battle to you on a silver platter, would you as a warrior want that?" Again he held out the slip of paper to Mitsurugi, "My offer still stands."

Turning his back to this mercenary job once again, once and for all, Mitsurugi answered, "It's appreciated . . . but a warrior, a true warrior, must find and face his own challenges." And with that, he left. Still searching for Soul Edge, but now for an entirely different set of reasons.

The frenchman sighed and lit up a new cigarette as Mitsurugi disappeared down the corridor. He opened up the paper, and briefly read over the note again. "Why have the high and mighty nobles come crawling to me to find you, monsieur Sorel?" Then after a moment he crumpled the page up, and tossed it onto the floor with the rest of the trash in the room. "Bah. Nobles are even worse double-crossers than gutter-folks."

---

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As always thanks for the feedback.


	10. Awakenings

**Tainted Souls, Tainted Swords**

Chapter Ten: Awakenings

---

Within a dream, within a memory, Taki found herself staring at her reflection in the water and seeing the girl from twenty years ago. Just an obedient orphan girl who lived with her grandparents, helping her grandfather forge swords and armor. She was no one special, but she had ambitions of seeing the world. She had just finished performing her daily chores (finished early as always), bowed respectfully to grandfather Hideo, and set off to deliver a new katana to Sensei Kurusawa and watch the warriors train before she'd rendezvous with her friends to play before the dusk.

Taki hurried across the village, delivered the weapon, and claimed her usual spot to watch the warriors (a spot that required formidable tree-climbing skills to reach.) From her vantage point, not only could she observe the men sparring, but she could also look out across the landscape and how her home radiated with welcoming beauty and perfection that felt somewhat surreal, and yet it seemed more real than her (future) journeys through Europe. The colors of the green grass, the pink and violet sky of sunset appeared brighter, fuller, more lively than anywhere else.

Her heart was full in this time and place above the village, expertly maintaining her balance on the branch. The young Taki never suspected that she would never meet with her friends by the well before the dusk. That she would never play with them again.

And something in the distance caught her attention. A man running at full speed across the countryside. Curious, Taki leaned forward and strained her eyes hoping to identify him. "He's not from the village . . ." she whispered to herself, "Who is he?" Taki was the first to notice the man; she was also the first to notice the demons.

A band of monstrous humanoids, grotesquely warped, gave chase to him. Her eyes widened in shock. They gained at an unbelievable rate. He wouldn't make it to the village in time to warn everyone. Taki opened her mouth to scream for Sensei Kurusawa; however, no words came out of her mouth. Faster and faster they ran, still hundreds of yards from the gates but only a few feet from the running man. "Sensei," Taki said quietly, almost whispered, too horror strickened by the sight of the monsters leaping for the kill.

And finally, "Sensei! Sensei!" Frantically she pointed, "Monsters!"

Kurusawa glared up, infuriated that a child would interrupt until he noticed who the child was – Taki. She knew better. Knowing she would not play a prank, knowing she had a good reason, he motioned for one of the men to climb the tower and see for himself, then he quietly motioned for Taki to come down from the tree.

Taki did immediately, rushed to the Sensei and bowed her head, "Forgive me Sensei, but I saw—"

"It's Oni!" The warrior confirmed. "The demon comes!"

"Gather the men!" Kurusawa ordered, "Yoshitaka, I need you to ride and summon Toki of the Fu Ma. Make haste!" And the entire population burst into a frenzy of activity around Taki. Warriors rushed to don their armor and prepare their weapons. Most of the women scrambled to gather the young ones and take them to safety, taking up a secondary guard inside the temple. And the memory, distorted by emotion, played out slowly so the young girl felt completely isolated from the events happening around her. Everyone around her knew what to do. Everyone went to work immediately preparing for the battle, but she was lost, she was scared, she stood motionless watching the world around her. She heard neither Kurusawa nor her grandfather call her name.

Until finally jarred back to her senses as Kurusawa shook her violently and yelled, "Go Taki! Now!"

Gulping, Taki nodded and rushed into the arms of her grandfather, Hideo, upset that Kurusawa had scolded her. Her grandfather, armed with a katana, carried her to the temple in the center of the village, and escorted her down to the basement, where he held her. "It's okay, Taki. I'm here. Your friend Kado is here. You'll be fine."

To Hideo's (and the children's) horror, a mysterious supernatural wind swept through the cracks of the doors to put out all the candles, letting a veil of darkness fall upon the already panicked children. Hideo grasped the handle of his Katana as it reacted to the dark powers. Taki felt her heart pounding in her chest, felt beads of sweat form upon her brow, and anxiety mount by the second. "Are we going to die?" She remembered asking, and remembered the panic it caused in the other children.

Her grandfather quietly, soothingly, answered, "not while I'm here."

Then came the sounds of the battle . . . the sounds of the slaughter. The sound of steel on steel, steel meeting bone, the inhuman roar of other-worldly beings, and the screams of the adult warriors amplified in the dark silence. Taki remembers herself on the verge of hyperventilating as she clung more and more to her grandfather, mumbling something under her breath over and over again along the lines of, "please don't let us die."

"Shut up, Taki!" Kado commanded, glaring at her as tears welled up in her eyes, "Be strong! You're scaring the little ones."

"I . . . I can't—" her answer turned to a scream as the ceiling above her collapsed. She fell away from Hideo, and cried out, "Grandfather!" Without thinking she entered the dust cloud, feeling blindly through the debris for some sign of life. "Grandfather!" She found an inhuman foot, a monstrous foot . . . a demonic foot. And before the dust had cleared enough to see the beast, a powerful hand gripped her around the throat and Taki felt burning claws sink into her skin. Her lungs gave off a shriek of pure terror. She found herself staring into the glowing crimson eyes of the demon, Oni. So scared she didn't even think to scream for help, for someone to save her. Too terrified to move. She could only shriek.

Outside the dream, back within the forests of Italy, Varelli Tenebrarum opened his eyes and pulled away so he could look at the frightened full-grown ninja. Adult Taki still lay beneath him with her eyes shut tightly, breathing heavily, as she experienced a darkened and distorted reflection of her past. The demon smiled an evil smile at how well the mind-warping techniques were working. "Yes, Soul Edge . . . awaken the terror of the girl, and let it thrive in the woman!"

Within its scabbard on her back, Rekki-maru resonated as always, and it seemingly cried out for its master to wake up. But Taki would not, the Soul Edge fragment around her neck and the taint within Mekki-maru had her under its spell . . . and a dark fate awaited her when the evil finally did let her open her eyes.

---

Rothion awoke from the depths of peaceful sleep to find his soul mate missing from his side. The blankets were pulled back, and her spot had grown cold. Throwing off the blankets, Rothion stood and pulled a robe around his body. Searching their home, careful not to wake their two children. He found no sign of her. "Not again," he pleaded to the Gods as he charged to the temple of Hephaestus.

And to his dismay, there stood his wife in an Athenia gown that hung over one shoulder, she stared up at the statue with red-eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Even in this state of emotional turmoil, her image against the greek architecture in the moonlight was poetically beautiful, and the lamenting overtone of the implications behind finding her here of all places made his heart cry out. "Sophitia . . ." Rothion whispered.

She sadly broke her gaze from the statue to look at her husband, then bowed her head. Surrendering to her fate, surrendering to her calling, surrendering to her God. "I have to go," She whispered the unnecesarry words, "She needs me."

Rothion went to his wife to sooth her, he touched her chin gently as he always did and gazed deep into her eyes, "Sophitia, Cassandra will be fine. She's a grown woman." Sophitia hugged her lover, slipped into his embrace, and lay her head upon his shoulder . . . holding tightly as though afraid that letting him go would mean losing him to the evil of Soul Edge. Rothion stroked her hair, and rocked back and forth with the woman in his arms, "You don't have to do this, Sophitia—"

But Sophitia pulled away abruptly, "Yes, I do." And she ran her fingertips across one of the scars Soul Edge left her with, and as she did her memory flashed back to the moment of impact where the sword of the gods shattered the evil blade. Remembering how dozens of shards cut her perfect skin, and how one fragment buried itself within inches of heart. In response, the evil within the scars ached just enough for her to feel their presence. "I should have faced Soul Edge to close these wounds once and for all; I should have faced Soul Edge for my children's future. Cassandra shouldn't have needed to leave. I should have left weeks ago to bring Cassandra back. Rothion, if I don't leave my convictions are only going to grow in number and intensity."

Trying to reach out to his wife both emotionally and physically, Rothion quietly comforted, "Cassandra'll be fine. She'll destroy the sword. Our children will be fine. You'll be fine."

But Sophitia would not be comforted by words. "That's what I told myself, too." Only truth would comfort her, only actions to amend for her mistakes in hopes that it's not too late. "Who's going to help Taki?"

"Who's Taki?"

And strangely, Sophitia couldn't answer very well. Her only memories of the Japanese woman who intervened came from the brink of death, blurred by the extreme circumstance taking place around her. "Someone who helped me once, and now she's in trouble. She needs me. Hepheastus showed me in a dream." Sophitia doubted she remembered enough to recognize Taki at a glance, but during the nightmare the knowledge was innate – Taki was the woman she saw suffering at the hands of evil.

"I don't understand – you won't go for your children or your sister, but you'll go for this Taki person?"

"I'm responsible . . . indirectly, I feel responsible for her pain," Sophitia recited, almost oblivious to his question, "I owe her my life, and if she dies I'll never forgive myself," then looking up to her husband not as a wife, but as a warrior about to set out on a quest. "Hephaestus has shown me these dreams because I was too blind to put things together on my own—"

"Sophitia, listen to yourself—" Rothion tried to interrupt, tried to talk sense into his wife who had a family.

She wouldn't hear it though, "If I act now I might be able to save her. If I do nothing, her fate is sealed forever. And one day in the future, it won't be a stranger I barely met once. It'll be you, Rothion. It'll be my children. And that will kill me." The tears now flowed freely down her cheeks, dropping to the marble floor of the temple, and it was apparent that nothing would hold this woman away from her destiny. "You don't understand the evil within Soul Edge, Rothion, that blade spreads darkness like a plague. One cut, and you're forever tainted. It happened to me. I won't let it happen to Cassandra. I won't let that taint destroy my children. I'm not willing to take any chances on Soul Edge surviving. I owe it to my family, to everyone I care about, I must ensure the destruction of that sword once and for all."

Understanding the sad truth, not wanting to, Rothion quietly nodded.


	11. Destruction in the Key of Revenge

**Tainted Souls, Tainted Swords**

Chapter Eleven: Destruction in the key of Revenge

Lightning streaked across the darkened and clouded sky, only hours before the dawn as the first drops of a storm descended. Chilled rain upon her face awoke Taki, and took her from nightmare to deliver her amidst another. Upon her, crouched the demon. Water from the rain dripped from his mangle face, falling no more than two inches to touch the skin on her attractive face. She felt his scalding breath that reeked of brimstone. Varelli Tenebrarm glared through her soul with pitch black eyes that burned with hatred.

Before she would have instinctively grabbed Rekki-maru, and sliced the beast's head off without a second thought and then immediately follow up by banishing it from this world . . . but for reasons unknown to her, fear reached up and grabbed her, paralyzing her. Afraid to move, afraid to blink, afraid to breath.

"Where is the smug little Shinobi?" Varelli Tenebrarum, in her face, taunted as he grabbed the woman around the throat and squeezed until she could barely breath, allowing his claws to sink into her just enough to draw blood. Then he lifted her up off the ground, "Is that all you can do? Tremble? Aha ha ha ha ha!."

Taki whimpered, which provoked more belittling remarks and more laughter in her face. She panicked, kicking wildly (getting her nowhere). She reacted like a commoner in the situation, and all the while a layer of her consciousness was screaming, 'Wh—What's happeneded to me?'

"Aww, come now, mighty demon slayer! You have a sword made for killing creatures like me. Surely, you're not afraid." The storm's intensity picked up, thunder roared loud enough to make the earth tremble and lightning threatened to strike the nearby trees with winds strong enough to make the pouring rain fall horizontally.

Afraid? No. Terrified? Yes. She jumped at every flash of lightning, then again at every crack of thunder, and she trembled uncontrollably in the presence of the demon. She didn't even feel the cold rain. 'Why am I this scared?' her mind demanded, 'What could he have done?' Timidly, she looked to her beloved Rekki-maru out of the corner of her eye.

"That's it," Tenebrarum whispered, "You want it. Take it."

She gulped, barely managing to pull that off considering his deathgrip on her throat. And timidly, very timidly, she inched her right hand for Rekki-maru. Ten inches away, nine inches . . . she dared not make any sudden moves. That's when the demon ominously raised its left hand and grinned. The claws extended from its fingertips. Water ran down the claws, and dripped red as the water clensed Kado's blood from his hands. Then, without harming Taki, they retracted again, but the warning was clear. Biting her lip, Taki paused.

The demon flexed his mighty fingers as though preparing for a coming kill, daring her to make a move, "Take your weapon like you took your grandfather's katana. Strike me down as you did Oni." That's when she saw the bloody remains of Kado. The sight hit her like a sledgehammer, devastating her already emotional state. Her mind continuously saw herself lying dead next to Kado. Saw the face of Oni as a child as he held her in a similar predicament once upon a time. Returning her gaze to the prideful demon in the present, Taki sadly choose to do nothing.

Once upon a time she would rather risk death than surrender, she'd rather hope for a lucky break, but these unnatural mortal fears paralyzed her now. She let her hands drop to her sides, and Taki lowered her head in defeat as tears streamed down her face in utter confusion. She could not bring herself to act.

Tenebrarum's victory laughter echoed across the forest, while he removed Rekki-maru from its scabbard, thus disarming her completely. Now she truly was helpless. "Hahahahaha!" Tenebrarum had won. The demon threw the loser across the camp (away from Kado), and her body crashed into a tree.

Disgraced and disgusted with herself, Taki slowly picked herself up out of the puddle she landed in (more wet than muddy). Her eyes were closed and her voice quivered when she asked, "What have you done to me?" What was keeping her back? Somewhere buried in her consciousness was the offensive maneuvers that would yield her a victory. He did something to her, she knew it, and it made her want to rip into him! But she was afraid . . . petrified . . . something in her cognitive process protected this malicious entity, and how it crippled Taki!

"I fixed you." Tenebrarum answered smugly as he tossed the sword - Taki's sword - down in front of him so the blade stuck into the softening earth. Then through gestures, he challenged the woman to come take it. His supernatural fog surrounded the small camp, obscuring all the trails and paths and isolating the two of them. Just Taki and Tenebrarum. It was playtime with the Fu Ma, and he had a few games in mind specifically for her.

Through memory, Taki noted the pathways in the forest nearby (at least where she thought they were). She wanted to run. She so wanted to run. Run and figure out what the hell this thing did to her. Run, recover, and come back, but she couldn't leave without her swords! Maybe if Varelli Tenebrarum held only one, but both Rekki and Mekki-maru? She would have to try to get them back and dismiss the fog . . .

Off in the distance, lightning touched the earth and an explosion rocked her ear drums while the rain still poured down relentlessly. And unable to look at the demon in fear of freezing up again, a drenched Taki slowly approached keeping her eyes more on the demon's lower body. With every step she became more and more nervous, but fortunately she didn't freeze up. 'I can do this . . . just don't look at his eyes.' The former Fu Ma tried to build up her confidence, but she could never fully believe those thoughts. She was doomed, and part of her knew it.

Tenebrarum came to meet her halfway, and Taki spun into a roundhouse kick that landed into his grasp. 'Oh no!' she thought. The instinctive counter attack didn't come – she should have hopped up and kicked him with her other leg, but she didn't. She stood there like an amateur while claws extended into her leg. Then as Taki screamed the demon shut her up with three vicious punches to her face. Taki was face first in the mud, her thoughts awhirl as the demon (still holding her by the leg) stepped on the back of her head and pressed her face into the mud where she couldn't breath.

"I fixed you," the demon repeated, watching her futile struggles as he meticulously grinded Taki's face deeper and deeper into the mud. Thirty seconds. A full minute passed. "I could kill you like this," the demon nonchalantly stated to no one. Her struggles intensified but got her nowhere. "Pitiful," he commented. Two minutes, going on three fully submerged in the murky waters where no air was available. And finally, as her struggles grew weaker Tenebrarum gravely repeated, "I could kill you like this."

Then Varelli Tenebrarum spun around, dragging Taki with him, and swung the poor woman like an axe. Smashing her against the ground opposite where she was with a sickening thud, mud and water flew up and rained back down. Still holding on, he held her up like some disgusting piece of trash that you handle as little as possible. She was a mess, taken to the brink of consciousness, now gasping for breath and very much out of it. After glancing over his handiwork, he flung her across the camp again, slamming her beaten body into a tree.

Taki moaned, and curled up into a ball trying to keep herself from bawling like a baby. Why were her emotions this out of control? 'Damnit what the hell did he do to me?' Very slowly, she peeled herself out of this situation, only to fall face-first into the mud again. Now she cried. Cried like a peasant woman, like an infant. Why did her years of training and discipline seem to vanish from her mind?

Wait! "Why can't I remember my training?" She asked, as she concentrated on her past, on master Toki, the Fu Ma, her home . . . she vaguely remembered these things, but she could not remember experiencing them. It was like her memories had become silhouettes, dark outlines of what they used to be . . . dark and twisted shadows that haunted her. She couldn't summon the wisdom learned from the details, or gather a glimmer of hope from her past. Only darkness and despair. Glaring up at the taunting demon, her hair matted down and mud covering her face, "You stole my memories!"

"Poor Shinobi," it's voice oozing with false sympathy intended to mock her. Smugly, he toyed with his plaything's mind while she finally managed to push herself up. "Are you just now realizing that you're missing something?"

And somehow Taki found she could look into the beast's eyes now without fear. Now anger burned in her. Pure hateful anger, enough anger to cruelly break every bone in its body. A rage that sent her out of control, and far from the discipline she used to exercise. Without thinking Taki balled up a fist, charged through the rain-soaked camp, and threw a wild and overpowered punch—

—right into his trap! Her fist flew into his grasp, while he threw a powerhouse punch of his own that devastated Taki's midsection and took the wind from her. "Better late than never," he said satisfied to finally nail her with the same trap she so smugly avoided before. His fist hammered her abdomen a second time, and a split second later he kicked the back of her legs to bring her to her knees. Far from finished, then he backhanded Taki, and followed that with a series of blows to her arm and elbow (which bent it the wrong way) until the unbearable pain would keep her from using that limb for awhile.

Then Tenebrarum took a handful of her soaked hair, and dragged the dripping defeated Shinobi to her feet. "how does it feel to lose so badly? Huh?" He challenged, pridefully.

And for one moment the true spirit and wisdom of the warrior found a voice through winded breaths, "This isn't . . . me . . . you're beating." She was not herself, just a hollowed out shell of what she used to be. Tenebrarum couldn't beat the true Taki. He had to _fix_ her. "You couldn't beat me."

And she was right. It would cost her, but she didn't care. She spoke the truth, and with that truth she robbed Tenebrarum of any satisfaction this fight may have brought him. It wounded the Demon's pride that no matter what, he could never claim that he beat Taki on anything but overwhelmingly advantageous terms. 'Congratulations, you can crush an ant with an army.'

Infuriated, the demon growled, "Now, it's _really_ going to start hurting," as he proceeded to drive his knee and fist into Taki over and over again, pummeling her relentlessly. And slowly, he broke the ninja down inch by inch, limb by limb, bone by bone. He broke the woman who dared defy him and Soul Edge, dared to take away his victory with a few words. He brought her to her knees, then escorted her through the realm of unforgiving agony. And during the hours preceding the dawn, her screams echoed endlessly throughout the forest.

As the sun arose, the storm ceased . . . and what was left of Taki begged for her life. Beaten to the point that she couldn't think about her words. Her condition would barely register as being conscious. He had her precisely where he wanted, beaten and begging, completely destroyed, and utterly defeated . . . and yet, there was no sense of satisfaction. No sense of victory, and he couldn't hurt her any more without killing her . . .

"You mortals are too fragile," he grumbled, then paced for a good hour trying to figure a way to get at her. She lay at his feet, defeated, and yet he still struggled to get at her. And then it came to him.

Closing his eyes, Varelli Tenebrarum's physical form faded until he become like the fog he commanded. And the vapors swirled around Taki's limp and barely breathing body. Several minutes passed as Taki slowly breathed in the demon fog, and a few minutes later her eyes opened. Pitch black eyes.

Taki, possessed by the demon, stood up. "Come Taki, we have a reputation to destroy. Innocents to slay. And Cities to burn. I'll make you a tyrant . . . Hahahahahahaha!"

Reduced to the role of a spectator in her own body, her nightmares had finally transcended the dream world and assimilated her world. Worst of all? She couldn't resist anymore. She couldn't fight back. And there was no waking up from this nightmare.

--

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, guys. Life has a funny habit of getting crazy sometimes. Thanks for the patience.  



	12. A Wish Regretfully Granted

**Tainted Souls, Tainted Swords**

Chapter Twelve: A Wish Regretfully Granted

"Will you stop pacing, already?" Mina said over her shoulder, as she stood by the railing of the passenger ship that would carry them from Southern France as far East as they could go by sea. Why walk back to Korea? She had been looking out across the water on the main deck, watching the distant lands pass by as the sun just started its descent into dusk. Tried to anyway. Yunsung's pacing behind her was too distracting, and it was starting to annoy her. If Mina didn't know any better she'd say Yunsung would rather walk the whole way to Korea, back and forth back and forth. But no, he really just wanted White Storm back. "You know, I was never this bad, and that says something." (Although, she did have a lot more respect for Hwang now.)

He glanced nervously around at the other (mostly Europeans) passengers, "I'd feel safer with a weapon."

If Mina didn't know better, she'd say he was paranoid. But no, once again he just wanted White Storm back and was desperate for an excuse. "No one here cares who we are, where we're from, where we're going, or what our business is. The boat is sailing past Italy without stopping, so quit worrying. These people won't give us trouble if we don't give them trouble."

"Yeah? Then why do they keep looking at us?"

Was he trying to get on her nerves? Did he think it would get him White Storm back? On a sigh, "They're looking at me, not you."

"Oh? And how do you know that?"

She raised a brow, surprised he had to ask considering the nature of her red outfit. "Call it a woman's intuition."

Shaking his head, he continued pacing, "Whatever."

"Trust me on this, Yunsung." Now it was quite clear that he was impulsively spouting questions without giving them any thought whatsoever. Looking back out to sea, she quietly finished, "and you should know too." God knows she's caught him staring. Then she vowed to not answer anymore stupid questions.

"I'd still feel better with a weapon to defend myself with." And as Yunsung went on with a string of 'what-if' questions ("What if a fight breaks out? What if you need me? What if . . .").

Mina found herself unable to appreciate the scenery so she quietly sang a folksong to herself. The alternative was to go off on Yunsung and make a scene, which she very well may end up doing before much longer. For now she just hoped he would get the message and knock it off.

That's about when the sounds of the ship abruptly shifted from dozens of unintelligible conversations to a single gasp, followed by silence broken only by a clink, a thud, and call for help. Mina and Yunsung turned their attention to the center of the main deck where the passengers formed a ring around something. The Koreans couldn't see what, but instinct told them: fight.

Yunsung shot a glance to Mina, who didn't even acknowledge as she started to head towards the center of the disturbance and maybe help the person calling out since no one else seemed willing to. But she found herself stepping back as she witnessed a bizarre phenomena – some poor man thrown high into the air, as a string of metal fragments flew in a seemingly a random pattern and juggled him. Then just as suddenly, the metal fragments slammed him to the deck only a few short feet away from the Koreans.

". . . h . . .elp . . ." he whimpered. He wasn't a warrior, he was just a commoner. A little balding man, probably a poor merchant, wearing tattered clothing. He clutched something in his left fist as he weakly tried to drag himself to safety, "pl-please."

Mina went to him, exercising both caution and compassion, "What happened?"

"H . . . here," and the merchant held out his hand, to give his rescuer something. But Seung Mina heard the crack of a whip, and instinctively jumped to a defensive position. She glared up at the attacker, but couldn't see through the chaos of people on deck. Then the merchant slid across the deck away from her. The crowds parted, and Mina saw the merchant come to a stop at the feet of a female pirate.

"I just saved your life," the white-haired English woman announced snobbishly without even looking at Mina. Her weapon went from its whip state and reformed into a single blade. She stepped on the merchant, and the sword lashed out like a serpent (putting the merchant out of his misery) and then instantly reforming into one solid blade again.

"Hey!" Gripping Scarlet Thunder, Mina wasn't about to let this person – an obviously hardened warrior – pick on a helpless man, "You have five seconds to explain yourself." No way in hell she'd let this woman get away with cold blooded murder.

Kneeling down, Isabel Valentine wiped her blade clean on the merchant's clothes and collected a series of metal fragments from the merchant's dead hand. "This doesn't concern you." She declared, still refusing to make eye-contact. As far as Ivy was concerned no one on this boat would pose a challenge to her.

Yunsung recognized Valentine's point of interest – the fragments she took from the merchant! He had a fragment just like it before that ninja took it from him. "Hey, that's—"

"I'll handle this, Yunsung." Mina interrupted, unknowingly saving themselves from Ivy's wrath (at least for the moment). Then to the callused woman, Mina called, "You're a thief, and a murderer!"

"Believe what you want," Ivy responded, standing up, content to go on with the rest of the night as though nothing had happened. Only those tainted by Soul Edge had to get hurt, those holding onto fragments of the evil sword. Only those who stood in her way.

And before Isobel could walk away, Mina called out, "Your five seconds is up." One way or the other, she would make this white-haired heartless bitch acknowledge her. Advancing into striking range, the Korean wouldn't normally strike someone in the back, but this stranger had had enough warnings.

Valentine seamlessly changed to whip state. "I wouldn't do this if I were you." The crowds backed to either railings, afraid to get in the path of that weapon's ultra-wide sweeps.

"You're not me." Mina answered, two more steps and—

And Ivy spun around, swinging low so the sword wrapped around Mina's left ankle. With a swift tug, Ivy pulled the Korean off her feet. Mina landed harshly on her rear end, feeling pretty stupid. With a routine twirl, Valentine went back into solid form and Ivy still didn't regard her challenger. "_You've_ been warned."

Yunsung's eyes went wide at how far away that whip-sword could strike Seung Mina. Finally, he might get his wish – he might see a weapon with greater range beat Mina down! He leaned against the rail, crossed his arms, and watched with a smile. If she needed him? 'Oh well, it wouldn't have happened if he had White Storm.'

"Cute trick," Using Scarlet Thunder to help her stand, Seung Mina advanced again (this time staying on guard now that she knew Valentine's range.) "but you're going to have to do better than that."

"More bloodshed," Ivy mumbled, spinning around and swiping upwards with her sword, bringing it into whip state so she could twirl it over her head. Seung Mina easily sidestepped, and closed in (tried to close in). Ivy performed a wide horizontal swing that smacked Mina in the face, nearly toppling her. Valentine wrapped around Ivy's body, and the pirate held it there in an en guard stance. "Spare us both. Give up already."

A scarlet streak ran from an open cut on the Korean's cheek. "That the best you can do—" Mina didn't even finish before she regret asking. The whip flew at the flick of Ivy's wrist, lashed out once-twice-three times and Mina barely managed to get her zanbatou into position to defend. Valentine returned to sword from, and Ivy made a horizontal swipe that Mina easily avoided and swiped upwards. "Let's see you dodge—"

And again, Mina regretted her own words. Valentine came back around in whip state, wrapped around her throat, and pulled her to Ivy's feet. "Your pathetic," Ivy commented, kicking the downed Mina in the face. The Korean's head snapped violently to the side, and her senses were sent into disarray. Her vision went blurry as tears instantly formed. The only thing pushing her back up was pure instinct.

To no one, Yunsung quietly asked, "Sucks, doesn't it Mina?" he was enjoying every second of this single-sided fight where Mina couldn't hide behind her weapon's range. To him, she was getting what she deserved.

Before she really became aware of her surroundings, Mina suffered a kick to the lower lumbar that forced her down on all fours. Scarlet Thunder fell from her grasp. Ivy, with her foot still planted on Mina's back wrapped Valentine (in whip form) tightly around the younger girl's throat, cutting off her air supply, and Ivy pulled the Korean to her knees. Choking her. "The next time somebody tells you 'this doesn't concern you', mind your own goddamn business."

Seung Mina tried to pry Valentine from her throat, but she could not seem to make any progress. It was as if the sword was squeezing her throat like a serpent constricting around her airways. She couldn't reach Scarlet Thunder. And she couldn't lash out at her opponent! Ivy had her right where she wanted her. Isabel Valentine patiently waited while Seung Mina struggled, watching wordlessly as Mina gradually grew weaker from lack of air. Slowly the fight drained from her, and Mina's body went limp. Her arms hung lifelessly at her sides. Ivy pulled on Valentine to bring Mina's head close so she could whisper to the unconscious girl, "Lucky for you, I'm picky about who I kill. And I'm sick of bloodshed." Then she released the Korean (not exactly in a gentle manner, but at least she released her). Mina crumbled to the deck in a pitiful heap.

Sliding her boot underneath Mina, Ivy rolled the girl onto her back then shook her head at the pathetic sight. "Unfortunately, you're not the type of girl who learns her lesson the first time, are you? You'll be in my way again the moment you wake up, won't you?" Ivy looked around at the spectators, then motioned for several against the starboard railing, "You. Throw her overboard."

"I don't think so," Yunsung stepped forward. Granted he wanted to see Seung Mina learn a lesson on ranged combat (which she got), he didn't want her seriously hurt. Time to intervene. Just a bit closer and he could reach White Storm. "She got what she asked for, and I'm okay with that. But if you think you're going to throw her overboard, you've got something else coming to you. You're gonna have to deal with me."

Isabel shrugged, "Okay." In his mind, Yunsung saw the encounter happen differently. In his mind, he saw himself actually doing something to defend Mina. What really happened? The sword, Valentine, went into whip state and wrapped around his neck. Then, in one motion, Ivy turned and flipped him over the railing down to the water below. Then she looked to the crowd, "Anyone else?"

No one answered.

The passengers lifted the unconscious Seung Mina up over their heads, and carried the girl to the port side of the ship where they threw her and Scarlet Thunder to the cold waters of the Mediterranean Sea. The shock of splashing down into the chilling waters jolted her back to consciousness instantly, and needless to say that she splashed frantically while she got her bearings back.

"Mina!" Yunsung called, waving to her from a good distance away, and he pointed as best he could to the slowly sinking weapon. "Scarlet Thunder!"

Her eye happened to catch a glimpse of her zanbatou before it went under. Taking a deep breath, she dived and retrieved her weapon (being quite thankful some of its materials could float and kept it from going straight to the bottom right away.) She reappeared above the waters, and filled her lungs with air.

"You have White Storm?"

Of course he would ask. Mina refused to answer. Having fought its weight in retrieving Scarlet Thunder, she didn't have to check to make sure the sword was still secured to her back. The two swam to shore, thankful the ship stayed so close to the coast, and thankful the waters were calm. Of course, that is relatively speaking. "Close" for a ship still meant an hour-long swim, and "calm" could still toss around a swimmer. But it could have been much worse.

The Koreans were exhausted when they finally crawled out of the waters onto the dry sands of a beach in northern Italy. Neither she nor Yunsung spoke nor did they care that the coarse sand stuck to their wet skin, clothes, and hair. They just regained their breathing and rested. Having fought Ivy before being thrown overboard, and having dragged both weapons, Mina had no strength left. She barely managed to roll herself over onto her back, and didn't think she'd be able to move again if she wanted to.

And before long, Mina closed her eyes and passed out from exhaustion while Yunsung lay awake, staring at the tip of White Storm poking out from under Mina just barely visible in the moonlight.

---

As the first signs of dawn marked the Eastern horizon and the tides began inching its way to the resting Koreans, Yunsung decided to finally force himself up and dusted himself off. His muscles really didn't want to comply, but he managed. "Congratulations, Mina," Moving over to the still sleeping girl, he rolled her onto her side so he could slip White Storm off her. "We tried things your way, and look where it got us."

Carefully he inched the sword within its scabbard off Mina, holding his breath as he tried to do it without waking her. "Just a little bit . . ." why it worried him? Who knows. She wouldn't be able to stop him even if she did wake up. "Got it." Hopping up (and almost falling back down, thanks to tired and uncooperative muscles) Yunsung gathered up Scarlet Thunder and headed northwest. "Let's see how you like being unarmed."

Ten feet, fifteen feet, fifty, away Yunsung looked over his shoulder to bid Seung Mina his final farewell even though she couldn't hear. And he stopped in his tracks. Seeing her just laying there all alone on the beach with nothing, he couldn't bring himself to leave her like that. Stabbing Scarlet Thunder into the ground, he headed northwest again content that she would have something . . . but again, he stopped after only a few dozen paces.

Drawing White Storm, he looked into the blade and didn't see his reflection. He saw both himself and Mina: she was handing the sword to him with a warm smile on her face and a proud gleam in her eye. Sighing sadly, Yunsung looked back to the girl sleeping seemingly peacefully in the sand. As a wave of realizations hit him, he glanced back down to White Storm, "Is there anything I haven't screwed up?"

Yunsung didn't want White Storm, he wanted the right to wield White Storm. Running away with it would get him nowhere, even if he found the Sword of Salvation it would mean nothing. Would he take Soul Edge sword through trickery and cowardice too? Can it be taken by such tactics? No wonder Hwang refused his challenge. No wonder . . . .

The cool waters against her skin pulled Mina from the dream world to the real world, and she found she had rolled over during her sleep. Her muscles still felt drained and ached ever so slightly. She brushed the sand off her hands, then rubbed her tired eyes as a shadow fell over her. Mina looked up to see Yunsung holding both White Storm and Scarlet thunder, and mumbled "great" expecting him to take advantage of the situation: Pay her back for making him travel without a weapon, kick her while she's down, challenge her to a fight, or something.

Seung Mina mentally prepared herself to go off on him, and/or put up whatever fight she could manage. But to her surprise, he offered her his hand, and she just stared at him confused. Looking into his eyes, she saw a different person from the kid who paced endlessly last night. This was a more mature person. Still reluctant, not really sure what to make of it, Mina accepted the gesture, and stood up. Before she had a chance to dust herself off, Yunsung held out both weapons and with a single sentence that confirmed what she'd seen in his eyes. "These don't belong to me." He said.

Slowly, Seung Mina took White Storm and slung it across her back, and then took Scarlet Thunder. Then she'd hate herself for the response she gave. She should have acknowledged gracefully: nodded appreciatively, or express her thanks. But no. What came out of Mina's mouth? Like the 'noble' teacher she was, Mina raised her brow and replied, "Um, what _exactly_ happened while I was out?"

---

Author's Note: Thanks for the kind feedback, everyone. In case anyone read my profile - I know I had initially hoped to get average one new update per week. I've since realized how impossible that can be to keep up with in light of real life, so I'm going to say once per two weeks unless circumstance intervenes.

. 


	13. The Possession

**Tainted Souls, Tainted Swords**

Chapter Thirteen: The Possession

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A thick fog rolled in on a poor unsuspecting city in northern Italy. Strangely, it only covered several city blocks, but never overtook the entire city. It would mysteriously swirl around torches and inexplicably suffocate the flames, cutting off all outside light. But it was not dark within the fog, for it possessed its own dim illuminations that pulsated with like a very slow very dim strobe light.

Needless to say, citizens on the street saw the phenomenon from a distance and most avoided it. Other foolish souls allowed their curiosity (or drunkenness) to get the better of them, venturing within. The most unfortunate souls lived in the area, slept peacefully in their home, and never realized the danger creeping in on them.

--A man opened his eyes, sensing the green light and feeling the weight of another creature upon his bed. And he barely had time to take in his surroundings, barely got a glimpse of the female silhouette upon him before she pressed her lips against his in an tender affectionate kiss. Right away his mind chalked it up to an exotic dream with one of his mistresses, or perhaps his wife. He answered the kiss (closing his eyes again) with intimacy, sliding his hands around the woman of his dreams, feeling the shredded nature of her clothes and the sword strapped to her back.

Confused, he opened his eyes to find she had slipped away. Just vanished into nothingness, so it must have been a dream. But, if that were the case, why was there a fog in the room? and why was it glowing green? Maybe it really happened. Sitting up confused, the man looked to his wife beside him, "Darling, did—" That's when he noticed her half of the bed soaked in blood.

--"Sophia! Gabriele!" A frantic babysitter called out as she wandered timidly through the abyss.

"Aunt Annabelle!" They cried in unison, from somewhere nearby. "We can't see you!"

"I'm here babies!" Why did she insist on going out at this late an hour? And why didn't she see the fog sooner? She had accidentally dropped her money pouch, and scrambled to pick it up (thanking the heavens no one saw or heard the coins in this neighborhood), the street (and both her children) had vanished into the thick cloud. It had just materialized around her out of nothingness, constricting around her, hampering her movement, and now she couldn't locate the children. "Where are you?"

"I'm scared!"

"Me too!"

"It's okay. I'm coming." And the woman felt a blade against her throat, and stopped. Out of the abyss behind her, the shape had emerged with incredible stealth. Annabelle begged, "Please . . . I'll give you the money."

Annabelle felt a hand turn her around, and she found herself staring at an Asian woman marked with the obvious signs of a severe beating. But despite her bloodied and bruised appearance, her eyes were the most disturbing: pure black eyes. No iris, no whites, just a void of black beneath her eyelids. Still pressing the sword against her victim's throat, the Asian commanded, "On your knees."

"Please," she pleaded, trembling as she obeyed. "Don't do this!"

Sliding her fingers down Annabelle's face (forcing Annabelle's eyes closed) the Asian woman said. "Now tell them goodbye."

Hyperventilating, the innocent girl barely managed to get out, "no . . . please . . ." and for a moment, she thought this stranger might spare her. The sword came away from her throat, and Annabelle heard the 'clink' as it returned to its scabbard.

Crack! With a sudden twist, her neck snapped and Annabelle hung lifelessly in her killer's grasp.

--"This is weird," the tall man said to himself, noting how the thick fog felt like lukewarm water. "This is phenomenal! I've never seen anything like this! I wish Marco were here."

"That's great, Nevio" a voice called from outside the fog, his apparent drinking buddy, "But you know, green glowing fog kinda gives me the creeps so could you hurry it up and get out of there?"

"What are you scared of? Like it's going to reach out and strangle me," quoth the dead man as the fog thickened around him.

"It might actually strangle you."

"Whatever."

"It's called poison. Think about it. You're breathing in air that's dense, green, and pulsating. I'm no expert on dense, green, pulsating air, but something tells me it's probably not—"

"Okay! Okay!" The tall man snapped back, "I hadn't thought about that." At which point he noticed a figure in the fog (a sexy feminine figure in the fog.) He stepped towards it, disregarding his friends warnings, "Hey! Miss! C'mon, this stuff isn't safe. It's poisonous, here I'll . . ." The fog opened up around her, bringing to light all of the bruises and cuts on her battered form. He stopped just a little ways from her, holding out his hand, "Oh my God, are you okay? Wha-what happened to you?"

A malicious smile spread across her face, "I'll show you," and she delivered a sudden roundhouse kick that floored the tall man. He looked up confused to find no one, and as if to mock his inferior abilities a kick came out of literally nowhere, knocking him senseless. He heard her crack her knuckles, and felt her drag him to his feet so she could continue to play with his senses – beating him while remaining hidden.

Hearing Nevio cry out, the loyal friend screamed into the fog, "Nevio! What's happening? Nevio!" And as much as the scrawny friend hated to, he entered the fog which swirled around him like the tendrils to an unholy beast, wrapping around him, and blocked his view. "Nevio?" It kept him isolated from the tall man, and he could only hear the faint gasps and pitiful attempts at a plea for help, and the beating. The constant sound of a human body being struck. He knew it was Nevio at the receiving end of a merciless beating.

And after what felt like an hour, the fog opened up, permitting Marco to find the mauled remains of his friend only ten feet away. And for a brief second he swore he saw the outline of a woman walking into the fog, but her laughter lingered. Marco, the 'friend', sprinted in one direction, intending to keep running until he broke free of the fog and could get help. Instead, he ran into a wall and knocked himself out.

---

After a few short hours, the fog lifted, leaving behind the massacred bodies of dozens upon dozens of victims. It had, however, left survivors; in fact, it left behind many random survivors. And from the mouths of these few would come the words to nurture the seeds of rumors throughout the remainder of the population.

-- "It was a monster, I tell you! A monster!" A wide eyed trembling blacksmith rambled on to one of the scribes who worked for the city guard. .

The morning had been packed with frantic people just like this guy, and it was beginning to wear down the poor people in charge of recording the information. "Okay, what did this monster look like?"

"It was nine feet tall! And teeth! It had teeth and these huge claws that . . ."

-- Elsewhere in the city, another scribe looked up from his paper, "You saw a woman?"

"Yes!"

"So what? She was probably curious like you were, or she was looking for a way out—"

"It wasn't like that, you see. There was something strange about her, right? She was like a ghost, see?"

-- "She didn't make a sound," Another witness recited, "She was there, and then she was gone. I never took my eyes off her, and she just disappeared into thin air! No puff of smoke. Nothing. She just disappeared. Right in front of me. Hey! Are you writing this down? Don't look at me like I'm crazy."

-- "Stupid lookin'. Yous knows what I'm saying? You knows how foreigners are, right? Right? Her skin was a little darker, and she had these narrow slanties eyes, that just don't look normals. I thinks she was from them Americas."

The scribe set his quill down and shook his head sadly in shock at how this guy could offend not only the American Colonists and the Japanese, but also seriously offend his fellow Italians with his stupidity.

"Oh, and dids I also mentions that—"

"Just go. Now." As the scribe tore up that report, "Before I kill you, myself."

"Buts—"

"GO!"

-- And still, another scribe went over the description one last time before dismissing the witness, "Okay, you're telling me she was Asian. Black hair. Had black, ahem, 'soulless' eyes. Her clothes were torn, and she had bruises and cuts all over her face. Anything else?"

"Uh, she also had big . . . well . . . you know."

"Yes. Thank you. Next!"

-- "Back when this city was just an infant, the townsfolk beat her to death for being different! And every one-hundred years, on the anniversary of that night, the fog rolls in and she rises from her grave to make us pay for the sins of our ancestors!"

The scribe just looked at the old fisherman with a raised brow, "Um, yeah. Thank you. I think you just solved this mystery." Offering a fake smile, and the moment that witness was beyond earshot, "superstitious idiot." He sat back dropped the quill, not caring that its tip left an ugly blot on the page. He rubbed his tired eyes and murmured his own theory under his breath, "Soul Edge . . ."

---

Within the majestic structure of an old church, the city's ruler met with the high priest. "Father," he greeted, kissing the priest's hand as was custom. "I understand you wanted to speak to me about the events of last night."

"Indeed," the priest answered, "I've heard and read some disturbing information about it. What do you make of it?"

"I don't think it's supernatural, if that's what you're getting at. But you've always known that I don't believe God or Satan manifest their powers so broadly anymore. It's the work of a clever assassin, taking advantage of the primitive mindsets – illiterate mindsets – that make up the masses."

The high priest only nodded sadly, "Yes, that is the news that disturbs me the most. Your lack of faith."

"Not every man who cries 'the devil made me do it' is telling the truth, and not every burning bush contains a message from God."

"I suppose emerald fog that glows in the dark is a common occurrence like a mad man rambling about Satan or a family lighting a fire to keep warm."

"We have numerous reports of people seeing an Asian woman with swords in the fog. All of the bodies we found were killed by human hands. She could have burned a chemical or something and made the fog that way. It could've had something in it to make people hallucinate."

"Most disturbing the things you'll accept over your God. I read the reports as well, and a number of scribes added their own thoughts. Most of the scribes, educated men like yourself, believe it has something to do with the demon sword."

"Soul Edge," the ruler sighed, "Look, father, I've heard of strange accomplishments from all over the globe. Medicines from across the Mediterranean Sea, new ship designs from the North, herbs and spices from the far East that supposedly make you live longer. It's not out of the question that last night's phenomena was just something we've never seen before. It is not the work of the devil, nor some rumored spirit sword forged in the hell fires or whatever."

Narrowing his eyes, the priest answered, "It's not out of the question for this to be the work of Satan."

Frustrated, the ruler gave in, "Yes. It's not out of the question."

"Good. Remember that, for your own soul's sake."

"Is that a threat I detect in your voice?"

"A promise to take action should your belief, or lack of, call for it. Conduct your investigation with your resources on your time. However, the masses need an explanation, and you're to . . ."

"I know," he really didn't want to listen to the religious propaganda again, "I know." In the end, it really didn't matter. There were already a number of rumors of every flavor circulating in the streets, and the church's official stance at best would just add one more to the group. The real issue was tracking down the one responsible – and soldiers could track her down regardless of what label she wore – "Heretic", "Assassin", or "holder of Soul Edge." It didn't matter.

The only thing that did matter was that she had to be stopped.

---

Finally, after the bard downed some terrible wine, he sat down on the edge of the stage and ran his thumb across the strings of a lute, "Gather 'round, all who think they aren't afraid. I bring a true story of a town not far from here, of a tragedy that really happened, of a ghost that really exists," as his fingertips plucked the individual strings of the chords to a repetitive yet spooky rhythm, he told the tale of a deadly fog that rolled in and how the night, itself, swallowed people into its darkness.

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Author's Note: I sincerely hope no one takes offense at one of the stupider characters in this chapter and more specifically his comments (the one who was intentionally written as the stupidest character in the whole story, I might add.) Then again, another reason this story is under the "mature" category.


	14. Distant Travellers

**Tainted Souls, Tainted Swords**

Chapter Fourteen: Distant Travelers

Two hundred miles from the Italian-Austrian border, Sophitia slept on her side, wrapped up tightly in thick blanket to protect her from the cold mountain air. She used the saddle bag with her gear as a makeshift pillow. Between the saddle bag and the ground lay her sword and shield, which her hands never left and they never quite relaxed. Not entirely.

Her white stallion, likewise, slept with a blanket across its form after the exhaustive run, which would be repeated again tomorrow and the following day. Already she had raced north several days through the mountains, and would continue to race with as few stops and pauses as her and her animal could afford. By tomorrow afternoon, she expected to clear the mountains and then it was a matter of tracking her old ally.

"Hephaestus will guide me to her," she told herself over and over, knowing Taki only as a vague blur in her memory from seven years ago – when hurt as badly as she was from the shattering of Cervantes' sword, one doesn't have the luxury of proper introductions or conscious dedication to memory. "He has to - why else would he show me these things . . . unless?" No, the visions came from Haphaestus. Who or what else would send them to her? And Sophitia had convinced herself, "Then the Gods will lead me to Cassy." And finally, to Soul Edge.

A wave of chills passed down her spine and rippled through the rest of her slender body. Not from the temperature nor the winds at this altitude, rather from the visions that haunted her subconscious. Every night – she saw hundreds upon hundreds of bodies hung helplessly in an immense spider web, all struggling against their sticky bindings to get free; however, they made no progress. And yet, there was one who did not fight. One with her head lowered, bloodshot eyes and damp cheeks with tear tracks . . . and Sophitia's heart always sank at this point in the dream, for Taki had given up.

"I'm coming!" Sophitia heard herself crying out, and in her mind she desperately sought out the answer to an overwhelming question – what could bring this hardened warrior to such a hopeless end? And could she, herself, face down this same monstrosity? After all, wasn't it this Japanese woman who saved her from Cervantes seven years ago? Wasn't the ninja stronger? And if so, what did this Greek ex-warrior hope she could do—

'Nevermind! Don't think that way, Sophitia! You're strong too. You'll come through . . . you owe it to her.'

Laughter echoed through the dark abyss of the dream, and a monstrous spider descended from the black infinite emptiness of oblivion. The laughter took on the form of a deep voice that taunted, insulted, and belittled the helpless and hopeless ninja. And as it spoke, the spider devoured the other victims in the web. One by one, slowly so their screams echoed to eternity and back again.

"Take me!" The ninja would cry out, "Leave them alone! Spare them! Take me instead!"

But the monster would not.

And the dream would cut short here. Most nights, it would continue as Sophitia sprinted towards the scene, but getting to Taki meant climbing the web. This dream world had no alternative – there was the web and there was emptiness. She'd hold her breath and start climbing the sticky strands, but it didn't take long before the inevitable. She was trapped too, completely immobilized in the spider's domain. And sensing a new presence, the monster moved to her, drowning Sophitia in the darkness of its shadow. It glared down through its arachnid eyes, and somehow she sensed a smile from it.

"Soul Edge has told me about you as well!" the words boomed forth with enough volume to echo endlessly in the nothingness. However, the part that truly disturbed Sophitia was the faint laughter she heard beneath . . . the laughter of a woman whose voice sounded distantly familiar.

But something was different tonight – she awoke prematurely for some reason. She felt a divine impulse to roll onto her back and bring her sword and shield up and just as she did she blocked the oversized circular blade. Instinctively, Sophitia kicked upward and felt her foot connect with her attacker's midsection. A second later, the Greek woman rolled to the side and hopped to her feet – sword and shield ready for battle as she uttered a quiet, "Thank you, Haphaestus."

And now she had a good look at her attacker, a woman in tight green patched clothes with bluish-green hair. The eyes were of a killer, but the voice belonged to a child. "Hi."

The contrast caught Sophitia off guard, causing her to visibly hesitate. "Who are you?"

"Me? I'm Tira. What's your name?" but the woman would follow up her friendly and cheerful introduction with an onslaught of deadly attacks, twirling the oversized chakram with ballet grace and assassin's precision. And indeed, the contradiction of ice-breaker conversation juxtapose to killer intentions made Sophitia hesitate, she barely had time to block with her shield and forgot about the bag full of supplies on the ground behind her.

Retreating into them, Sophitia tripped and to her horror fell backwards. And Tira did not let up. The ring blade came around time and time again with more force than she would have thought this little girl was capable of dishing out; were it not for her shield Sophitia would have been reduced to ribbons in a flash. The shield was her salvation, and Sophitia held to it with a death grip. On pure defense as she struggled to once again rise to her feet.

"What do you want?" Sophitia challenged, "Who sent you?"

"Why must there always be reasons and people in charge?" Like a school girl, Tira giggled, and she never ceased her attack. "It's not like I have the company of like minded people in this world. Too full of morals and good."

Still playing defensive, still blocking the ever-moving ring blade, Sophitia watched Tira's movements and got a feel for her timing. One more question – "Why are you attacking me?"

"Because . . ." and suddenly the cheerfulness, the hyperactive little girl seemed to vanish and in her place was a hardened killer. Her whole body spun to put extra power into this blow, to get that damn shield out of the way – that thing was making this way harder than it should have been. The ring blade struck the shield with enough force to throw Sophitia momentarily off balance, and knock the shield to the side. " . . . I can!"

Then with intentions of finishing off the Greek, Tira instantly reversed directions of her ring blade to take Sophitia's head off. And though the shield was in no position to block, Sophitia's sword did just fine and deflected the ring blade into the dirt.

"Damnit!" Tira swore, "You are really—"

And then Sophitia gave Tira even more reason to hate the shield by smashing the assassin's face with it. She immediately followed it up with a vertical swipe as the stunned Tira stepped back. The sword made a shallow cut that did more damage to Tira's top than her flesh, but it served its purpose. Sophi didn't want to kill this girl if she didn't have to . . . she was disturbed, no doubt, and dangerous, but maybe death wasn't the answer. Maybe the Gods could help her . . .

"Yield," Sophitia commanded, "You're hurt and you don't have a chance now. I don't want to kill you, but if you force me to strike again it will be fatal."

Tira turned her back to Sophitia, cradling the shallow cut across her torso with the ring blade still in hand. Stillness except for their heavy breathing, stillness for several minutes, and then the young assassin looked over her shoulder with hatred in her eyes. The hatred of a creature deeply offended, a creature that had sworn vengeance – but for what? Sophitia had never seen her before in her life!

"I'll get you," Tira's tone was dark, brooding, and venomous, as she probed for an achilles heel. Something to provoke her into attacking blindly, something had to set her off, "You and your friends . . . your family—"

Stepping forward, sword pointed at her opponent, Sophitia demanded, "Who are you!"

Tira sensed she had touched a nerve on the word "family." She smiled, the wicked smile of a villainess, and made a jump in logic (hoping it would pay off), ". . . your children."

On that word, "children", Sophitia lost control. No one had threatened her family directly before . . . not quite like this anyway. Her sword plunged for Tira's heart, riding the protective nature of maternal instinct. Right into Tira's trap – the assassin easily deflected the rage-induced attack, and twirled the Ring blade into position to once again slice Sophitia's throat . . . but the shield intervened.

A stream of profanity's entered Tira's head as she pushed Sophitia away and retreated. She pointed her weapon at Sophitia and vowed, "But first I'm going to get rid of that frickin' shield!" And then immediately Tira turned and ran into the night, calling out the finale of her threat, "Then you're mine!"

Sophitia stopped herself from following, and just stood there watching the assassin disappear into the distance. Fire ran through her veins. She could have killed that girl without mercy, without remorse, not out of duty or a sense of destiny (even if Hephaestus said "Thou shalt not kill!"). That girl threatened everything dear to her – everything – and it sent her into a frenzy. Only minutes ago she considered trying to help this misguided creature however she could, merely subdue her and try to reach her. No one was beyond hope.

But now those thoughts were completely forgotten. Now, Sophitia found herself whispering to no one, "The next time we see each other will also be the last." Full of adrenaline, with the raging emotions after that girl who threatened her family, Sophitia knew returning to sleep was futile. She broke camp, gathered her things, woke her weary animal, and started down the trail again whispering a vow that Tira couldn't hear, "As long as I'm alive, I won't let you hurt those close to me . . ."

---

The problem with being thrown overboard, the Koreans discovered, in addition to the obvious set back was the fact they once again had to raise money and gather supplies for the long trip back to Korea. This time, in a country where they might conceivably have a price on their heads.

Fortunately, no one seemed to give them any trouble. Unfortunately, apparently a disaster struck North and to the West, and some entrepreneur had taken all the spare animals to profit on some city-wide exodus, leaving Mina and Yunsung to continue their journey on foot (much to their dismay.)

Sueng Mina walked side by side with Yunsung, using Scarlet Thunder as her walking stick and the boy as her pack mule. White Storm still slung across her back, and she happily told anecdotes about her previous journey to find Soul Edge and how Hwang had dragged her back kicking, screaming, and pouting.

Yunsung laughed at her story, then commented, "And you say _I'm_ bad?"

"You _are_ bad." Mina countered, her voice holding no spite. Rather, just playfully teasing him, "You're way worse than I ever was. Trust me."

"You just said Hwang had to carry you—"

"As if I could pick you up!" From venomous arguments, to sibling-like bickering. It felt good, actually. And deep down in her thoughts, Mina quietly entertained the idea of hunting up the Sword of Salvation together with Yunsung – not so much to take back to Korea for the war, rather so they could see for themselves if the sword was indeed, the blade of darkness known as Soul Edge. Even though Taki had warned them against it, Mina's curiosity tugged at her.

"Weird," she commented.

"What's that?"

Quietly she gulped, just now realizing that she spoke aloud. "Oh nothing." The thought remained though – it's strange how her feelings on pursuing Soul Edge fluctuated with her level of frustration with Yunsung. 'Am I really that immature that I argued with him just because he irritated me?' she silently asked, then sighed. 'I really haven't grown up, much.'

Yunsung looked over at his traveling companions, their eyes met. And even though Seung Mina smiled, Yunsung sensed a sadness there. Her gaze then returned to the road ahead where she cocked her head to the side and squinted to see something far off in the distance. Without stopping, he turned his head to look too and saw a band of dozen soldiers (give or take a few) in full plate armor, riding on horseback in formation around a carriage heading for them.

"Think we should hide?" Yunsung casually asked, wanting to get out of this country so his heart could stop racing at every passing stranger.

Mina shook her head, "Nah. They look like escorts, not bounty hunters." Besides, they couldn't exactly go anywhere without attracting more attention. Spontaneously diving into a bush tends to look suspicious. Between all the armored soldiers, one was bound to have spotted them already. "Just act casual."

'What if they're escorting that noble from the River Arena?' Yunsung asked in his mind, but didn't bother to say it. He just continued walking, chatting with Mina. And he noticed a subtle tension in her voice, in her body language, that she shared the same concern.

Several minutes passed, and the sound of the hooves falling upon the earth, of heavy wheels grinding a rut into the path, grew louder and louder until it drowned out their conversation. Rather than shouting, both just fell silent and moved off the road so the soldier's could pass. The Koreans held their breath . . .

And to their horror, the symphony of noise from a carriage and entourage of guards came to a quiet conclusion as they stopped. Likewise, the Koreans stopped, Mina turned so Yunsung could draw the sword from her back while she gripped Scarlet Thunder tightly enough to turn her knuckles white.

"Is that her?" One of the guards asked, drawing his sword. Another guard – apparently the leader, judging by his armor – eyed Mina closely before shaking his head.

"Where are you two headed?" he said.

Yunsung was compelled to answer "None of your business," but he quietly congratulated himself for refraining, answering with a statement less likely to start a fight: "East."

"Back home," Mina added.

To both Korean's surprise, he nodded and gestured for his fellow soldiers to put their swords away. "You might consider another route," he stated, "or at the very least a cloak or something to hide your faces. There's a witch hunt under way in the direction you're headed."

"Witch hunt?" Mina and Yunsung said in unison, not quite sure how this connects to them.

"Soul Edge is loose in these parts, but the locals would rather call it the work of a devil worshipper. She's been identified as a Japanese woman wearing red," and the captain of the guard glared up the road, "which, unfortunately, translates to everything that doesn't look European will be arrested, tried, and executed assuming you're not killed outright."

Ah, the joys of paranoia and outrage – the thought of being burned at the stake because masses believed justice meant killing hundreds of suspects just to execute one criminal. Mina nodded appreciatively, "Thanks for the warning."

Then the escorts and the carriage started to move again, and Mina and Yunsung couldn't help but feel the icy glare and unfounded hatred of the rear guards who looked as though they'd be content to leave these foreigners dead at the side of the road.

As they walked in the other direction, Yunsung couldn't help but ask, "What do you think?" Something about the soldier's words didn't set well with him.

"I dunno. Last I heard Soul Edge was North of here." But based on her experience in the past, this information was unverifiable and virtually useless. "What he said could be true – Soul Edge is hard to track because its destruction is never a straight line. It just seems to hit random places across the continent." Or in other words, even if the sword was responsible it's probably long gone already.

"I meant about the Japanese woman. Do you think it's that ninja?"

Something in Seung Mina's soul confirmed it was, but she didn't want to believe it. "Don't be ridiculous, Yunsung – there's more than one Japanese woman in Europe, and I'll bet every one of them has at least one red outfit." They, themselves, might be part of the minority in this land and they very well may stick out in a crowd of Europeans, but there were other Koreans around.

They walked in silence. Mina's voice clearly resonated with her own doubts, but Yunsung didn't push that tangent. He did, however, have one last question on his mind, "So where are we heading?"

A sigh escaped Mina's lungs, a frustrated sigh, but the frustration wasn't directed at her traveling companion. Rather, it came from her own conflicting thoughts.

"Mina?"

"We're going home, Yunsung." She answered, forcing the words out of her mouth, but her curiosity would ultimately win a compromise. "But, if Soul Edge or the Sword of Salvation or whatever happens to be between here and home . . ."

---

Author's Note: Thanks for the feedback.


	15. The Hands of Soul Edge

**Tainted Souls, Tainted Swords**

Chapter Fifteen: The Hands of Soul Edge

Her hands had been stained red by a river of blood. A river created by her own soul-tainting sword, Mekki-maru. It thirst and hungered for souls, and absorbed the essence of the creatures it had slain. Taki could still feel their anguish and suffering, hear their cries, still emanating from within the dark blade, and she drown in the tears of those she'd killed.

But it wasn't she who killed them; although that did little for her conscience. She failed as a Fu Ma, she failed as a demon hunter, and she failed at everything—

No! That's what he wanted her to think. That's why he did this. She couldn't bring back the dead, and she couldn't atone for what the sins the demon committed while possessing her, but she could still stop him from hurting more ... somehow. There had to be a way. She had to hold on to her faith, hold on to her mind, not give up ... she had to wait for her chance to strike back. Taki could still save lives…somehow.

Within her own body, Taki's consciousness had been locked into a tiny cage while Tenebraurum had free reign to control her physical body as he saw fit. Her force of will, her spirit, her soul – whatever you wanted to call it – had been suppressed. Stepped on, and crushed beneath the combined might of an abyssal creature and an abyssal weapon. Forced to bear witness at what the demon intended, forced to watch hundreds innocents perish for no reason. Children, elders, and everyone inbetween.

And now, a shape emerged out of the shadows of her consciousness. A familiar shape. One with a face, a voice, and a sword she recognized. Though the eyes belonged to another, she recognized them too. Master Toki, possessed by Oni, appeared as an apparition before her, compliments of the telepathic link provided by the Soul Edge fragments.

His mouth twisted into a smile, looking down at his pupil's spirit caged up like an animal. Toki's mouth moved, but it was Oni who spoke, "Taki . . . I see my brethren has done well."

The Kunoichi refused to answer the apparition. The demons could possess her, could lock away her soul and force her body to obey their whims ... but they have no power over her soul where the real Taki resided.

The demon continued to speak, "I look forward to seeing you soon, seeing you in the flesh," and Oni delighted in her reaction.

"You're coming here?"

"Already almost here. There was little for me anymore in Japan. Besides, the shards of Soul Edge have gathered enough information about its enemies to destroy them, as you've seen first hand." Taki found herself gulping while the demon gloated. Indeed, she had suffered an overwhelming defeat – was Soul Edge in a position to crush its other opponents so effortlessly as it had done to her? Sensing her fear, her concern, Tenebraurum's voiced boomed with laughter. Oni continued his speech, "It's time for the sword to reunite and eliminate its enemies once and for all—"

"Yes," Tenebraurum agreed. "New life for Soul Edge, death to its enemies!"

Oni continued the thought, like an identical twin who finishes the other's sentences, "And then Soul Calibur!"

"For without a master..."

"... Soul Calibur is nothing."

Both demons laughed. Taki challenged them both with a promise to put an end to them, personally; however, the demons answered with more laughter. And Taki, herself, knew how empty the vow was. Bitterly she promised to find a way ... somehow.

But what was the promise of a helpless fragile mortal? One whose confidence and will had suffered a devastating blow after her defeat and continued to suffer as Varelli Tenebraurum continued to wittle away at her minute after minute, of every passing day. She was strong, but he'd break her completely one of these days. And only after she'd surrendered completely, only after she'd given up all hope and plunged into irreversible despair would he finally put the shrew out of her misery.

The apparition of Toki and Oni vanished, replaced by a series of ghostly scenes (presumably mirrors of events happening this very moment) intended to break her, but she had no way of knowing. Was this truth or a lie? No way at all –

In the first vision there was no movement, no action, but the images, themselves, still disturbed her – images of a battle's aftermath. Friends, former allies, the bodies of dozens of Fu Ma lying dead back in Japan, having died a terrible painful death that left the grimace of agony on their faces. Underscoring the scene came the muffled sound of Toki's voice, Toki's true voice, a voice that had weakened significantly from the last time she heard him speak. "Oni ... damn … you ..."

Like her, he was possessed. Like her, he was trapped. And like her, he could do nothing to stop the slaughtering. But if master Toki, a man more powerful and wiser than she, could not escape the demon's grasp, what chance did she have? 'No,' Taki told herself, wishing she could turn her head and not listen, but these were images and sounds projected directly into her consciousness. The demons could force feed them to her, and they enjoyed it. 'These are lies. They're all lies.' She told herself. But were they?

Then she watched the vision of the armored knight who holds the most potent and most complete incarnation of Soul Edge – Nightmare, driving back another knight who wore an eye patch. Driving him towards the edge of a high cliff where water crashed against the rocks far below, a romantic dusk illuminated the partly clouded sky. With ease, the armored servant of Soul Edge wielded the insanely massive sword with far more speed than anyone would have thought possible. And though his opponent fought bravely, he was obviously overwhelmed. Inches away from the cliff's edge, he had nowhere to retreat to and the one-eyed knight pursued his only option: a desperate offensive maneuver.

But Soul Edge's range was too great – the massive sword swept low, and Arthur managed to leap over the blade. Nightmare made a second revolution, however, catching Arthur just as he landed, and it sent him off his feet, over the cliff's edge, to the rocks below. The water momentarily turned red as they crashed against the cliff's edge, and then the deep blue coloration returned.

From there, the landscape faded to a dock and Nightmare changed to a familiar undead pirate with two swords. And now Taki saw an eerily similar scene to the one she just witnessed. Only Cervantes' two swords struck with the speed and venom of a viper, and the girl with the sword and shield did her best to block, but Cervantes was too fast. The shield blocked high, then low, then high again and she visibly struggled to get her sword into a defending position as well. And though she managed to block, it did not stop all the blows. Taki could see shallow cuts along the girls' arms, calves, and a bloody cut in her top; Taki could see the fatigue in the girl's stance, and that she struggled more and more to defend. Like Arthur, Cassandra was overwhelmed and pushed back until she stood at the edge of the dock with the waters waiting below. A crowd of spectators watched this fight, cheering on the girl's inevitable demise.

It was obvious the girl's spirits and confidence had been crushed, not just from the losing end of a one-sided fight but also from all those eagerly watching her lose. Voicing their desire for Cervantes to "finish her!" Knowing she had nothing left, and knowing she had nowhere to go, Cassandra glanced over her shoulder to the water, then back at the blade that swept for the deathblow. She swallowed her pride, and leaned backwards, allowing herself to fall to the water below as the sword narrowly missed her throat.

But on the end of Cervantes' sword hung the shard of Soul Edge that the girl had worn around her neck. Another shard, another step towards completion, and another warrior who was no match for the storm that was Soul Edge's resurrection.

'Only lies,' Taki repeated, not fully sure how much she believed it. 'I'll get out of this, and I'll pay the demons back in full.' For to possess her, to bring her this close to the heart of the demon and to Soul Edge meant giving her a chance to observe the strengths and weaknesses of her enemies on a more intimate level ... just as Mekki-maru had allowed them to find out her weaknesses, just as the fragments unveiled the weaknesses of those who held them. Quietly she whispered to herself, "Just hold on, Taki . . . just wait and watch for now."

The visions ceased, but what replaced them was far from pleasant. A new village – a tiny nameless and helpless village – on the horizon, and around her the glowing fog mounted . . . more blood would stain her hands tonight.

---

Author's Note: Short Chapter, I know, but I'd rather deliver a short chapter than pad it with BS. As always, thanks for the feedback from all.


	16. Old Allies, New Enemies

**Tainted Souls, Tainted Swords**

Chapter Sixteen: Old Allies, New Enemies

After another full day's journey, she saw the eerie unnatural fog hovering over the small village before her, hungering for something. Unlike her nights in the mountains, the air here felt warm even as the midnight hour approached, the winds brought the faint smell of burning wood. In her heart, Sophitia knew this part of her journey had come to an end.

Was it her imagination? Or did an ever so faint voice – the voice of the spider in her dreams – drift from the fog? "You've come . . ."

Sophitia said a quick and quiet prayer to Hephaestus, "Guide my sword." She opened her eyes, gripped her sword and shield, and let out a sigh before abandoning her animal to face the demon alone in the fog that seemed to part for her. An invitation? But to what?

Sophi followed the clear path, two walls of fog on either side, and then she saw the blood stains in the dirt. And from the silence arose the sound of a children's choir singing a haunting hymn, underscored by the laughter of the demon.

Breath upon the back of her neck—Sophitia hurled around, sword ready to strike! But she saw no one. However, she did see the fog close in behind her, surrounding her, and swirling as it closed in. And was that a silhouette she saw moving out of the corner of her eye?

". . . I look forward to carving you up, and feasting upon your soul."

The fog closing in, Sophitia called out, "In the name of Hephaestus, I will strike you down foul beast!" The fog on the verge of overtaking her, Sophi held her breath and held her ground, ready to strike. And as it finally flowed around her, swirling around her, a chill ran across her flesh as this fog felt like ice water on her skin – worse yet, it resisted her movements. What was this odd power? What was she getting into? And could she defeat whatever was behind it? "Guide me, Hephaestus."

The laughter echoed from every direction – whispered directly into her ear and called from a distant – cold breath blew across the back of her neck again. And as she spun around yet again, she felt something brush lightly against her clothing to the left and something caressed her hair to the right – just the subtle sensations of someone's touch, without them physically touching her. This was crazy – she was helpless like this! She had to get out!

Taki's soul could only watch helplessly as the demon (in her body) moved effortlessly through the fog, slid behind Sophitia and placed Mekki-maru's blade firmly against the girl's throat. Frozen in place, Sophitia gulped – had her end come so easily? Did she travel all this way to die so swiftly? 'Why Hephaestus!' The God did not answer.

As if reading her mind, the demon leaned close and whispered in her ear, "Your God is dead, little girl."

"I don't believe you!" Sophitia answered defiantly, although the seed of doubt was planted.

"But I won't send you to join him in the grave just yet. No." The blade came away from her throat, and she felt a violent blow to the back of her head. Sophitia stumbled forward clumsily, in what seemed like slow motion due to the nature of the fog, and before she could get her balance a kick to the back assured a collision with the unforgiving earth.

"Your kunoichi friend must see you suffer." Tenebraurum, in Taki's skin, kicked the prone Greek woman in the ribs once for each adjective, "a slow, painful, terrible death awaits you!" Punctuated by yet another kick, that leveled the servant of Hephaestus.

'_Stop it!' _Taki's soul couldn't stand to watch innocent people die, and now someone she knew suffered. Damn this monster!_ 'Or so help me . . .' _

The fog made Sophitia vulnerable to whatever attack the demon could dream up. The Greek had still not even caught a glimpse of her attacker – virtually blinded by the fog's thickness. And with her crippled reaction time (also compliments of the fog), Tenebraurum could cut her to ribbons at his leisure. That would come later; right now, Mekki-maru can wait in its scabbard. "Is that all you can do?" he taunted, allowing Sophitia to partly rise and try to lash out before—

Crack! A very powerful roundhouse kick struck the poor woman in the face, leaving her on the ground yet again in a dizzy daze, whimpering a plea to her God, "Hephaestus . . . help me!"

"He can't help you," The demon raised its foot to stomp down savagely upon the prone girls' head.

"No!" And as the attack came down, Sophitia expected to suffer another stunning blow – and yet her shield, now glowing blue, miraculously managed to get into position to block.

The demon backed off, unsurprised by the glowing shield. Nor did it seem surprised that the sword gave off a glow as well, and that the fog partly receded from the relics; it snarled bitterly towards the heavens above, "A little late, Hephaestus. No matter. Your errand girl will be dead before you decide to manifest your next miracle, you pitiful, lazy excuse for a deity!"

Rising, a sore Sophitia noticed the fog no longer hindered her. She watched it recede, revealing her attacker: Taki – the Taki with black eyes, and a malicious glare that did not belong to her ally. Sophi's gaze pierced the possessing spirit, and found the honorable warrior trapped within. "I'll help you, friend . . . I promise."

"She's dead," Taki snapped, but the words were not the kunoichi's. "If I leave this body, the only thing left will be a corpse! Your friend is dead! Rotting in hell! Feeding Soul Edge's hunger!"

"That's not true," Sophitia challenged. He said the same of Hephaestus, and the God prove him a liar. "I can see her."

The demon smiled, gestured an invitation with one hand, and with the other drew Mekki-maru, "Then come and get her."

"Your powers won't work on me anymore," Sophitia boldly announced, not sure how true it was. "Surrender, or suffer the wrath of Hephaestus."

"I don't doubt it. He always unleashes his wrath upon those who slaughter his servants," the demon within Taki commented, "but he never intervenes for his servants. He won't save you. I've felt his wrath many times, and it has never impressed me. Hephaestus' true domain is apathy. With all of his divine might and power, the world at his fingertips, he still has his worthless, expendable, slaves do everything for him."

"He lets us live our lives." Sophitia answered, "We can't grow unless we live."

"But must he let you suffer so?"

"Yes," she wouldn't let him shake her faith, "We grow stronger from our pain. If he sheltered us we'd be weak, helpless, and useless . . ."

And as she went on with her answer, the demon growled with genuine frustration, "Then prepare to 'grow' a great deal today," This woman did have the power to exorcise him – a different technique than the ninja – but an effective one, none-the-less. And she wasn't falling for the bait. He'd need something else to lure her into his trap – and then the fragment of Soul Edge within Mekk-maru revealed Sophitia's weakness. Someone in her family had handled the fragments . . . someone close to her . . .

'_No!' _Taki wanted to scream, but could not.

A smile crept across the demon's face, and it interrupted Sophitia's self-righteous monologue with words that turned her flesh pale and cold. "Soul Edge likes your children," the words earned him a hateful glare, a passionate glare, the glare of an enraged mother and not that of a seasoned warrior. Goodbye common sense, goodbye rational strategy. And hello to emotional blindness. "Soul Edge looks forward to drinking their youth."

"Leave my children ALONE!" Sophitia shrieked.

'_Sophitia no!' _and Taki's heart sank as the woman let her emotions drive this attack into a trap the demon had perfected through countless mortals.

Paying little attention to strategic placement of the shield, and not realizing how badly she telegraphed her attack, Sophitia left herself wide open. Almost nonchalantly, Tenebrarum sidestepped sliced the enraged mother across her abdomen. Reflex made her curl up, dropping her shield and wrapping her that arm around the wound, and before she had recovered Mekki-maru drew a deep line across her back. Sophitia cried out as she fell to her knees, and cursed herself for running into the trap so stupidly.

Circling around the finished prey like a vulture, the demon came to a stop in front of the wounded girl. Bleeding, Sophitia made a weak, but pitiful, attempt at lashing out – but Tenebraraum grabbed hold of Sophi's wrist and forced the Greek woman's sword to her own throat. The demon lay Mekki-maru on top of that sword, effectively scissoring two blades around Sophitia's throat. One quick motion would separate the girl's head from her shoulders, but a slow gradual decapitation would put on a better show for the trapped Taki.

Tenebraraum slowly started sliding the swords together, placing a shallow cut in Sophitia's neck. The Greek let go of her bleeding abdomen, and grabbed hold of Mekki-maru's hilt. Now with one hand on either sword, she fought against the scissored blades.

"Where's your God now?" Tenebraraum taunted as a smile crossed his face. The Greek didn't acknowledge him, but she didn't have to. In this position, as she used all her strength to keep him from slicing her head clean off, those words cut deep. He continued his verbal assault, "and you'll see no Gods in the afterlife, only Soul Edge—"

Sophitia felt him slowly overpowering, the swords cutting just a little bit deeper. Her mind cried out for Hephaestus, while her soul despaired over her failure. Sophi watched as the demon prepared to drive its knee into her. She braced herself for the end . . .

Taki couldn't let this happen. She couldn't let her friend die like this. Summoning every last ounce of her will, of her strength, the true Taki cried out in an attempt to regain herself, _"No!"_

The eyes of the ninja blinked – not the black void. Now her brown eyes. Sophitia wasted no time in pushing the swords away from her throat just as the blackness returned to the ninja's eyes. Only a second – all she needed. And then Sophitia plunged her sword into the side of possessed Taki's abdomen, running her through (hopefully non-fatally), "Demon," Sophitia commanded, "leave this vessel!"

Her blades' glow intensified and the sound of a monster shrieking in agony blasted from the wound, and then Sophitia ripped the sword free. As she did, a menacing green energy flowed from the wound. It drew in the green fog, and together they spun like a whirlwind into Sophitia's sword. She pointed it to the sky, and the green energy (fog and all) shot up into the heavens into the hands of her God. The village was quiet, not a cloud in the sky, and to the East the warm signs of a coming dawn could be seen.

Breathing heavily, pulse still racing, Sophitia looked over to her ally who at one time saved her life. Taki fell to her knees, and looked back at her with her own brown eyes. Tired eyes as though she'd come back from a long exhaustive journey. And with a simple nod, the ninja conveyed her thanks, her appreciation, and her plea for forgiveness before passing out.

---

Author's Note: See! Short chapters mean more frequent updates (sometimes!) As always, feedback is greatly appreciated and the reviews have been very flattering. Thanks everyone. A bit of heads up - Christmas and New Years might cause a little delay. I'm hoping not, but it's a distinct possibility.


	17. The Reunion

**Tainted Souls, Tainted Swords**

Chapter Seventeen: The Reunion.

Taki had no idea how long she slept, but imagined it was quite a while. She awoke in surroundings she vaguely recognized, but wouldn't recall exactly for a little while. A small barn, using bails of hay as a bed and her cloak as a blanket. Despite the warm air, she felt chilled and stayed beneath the cloak as she sat up. Her raven hair now flowed free of the bindings that kept it in a pony tail – coming down to just below her shoulder blades. A series of aches echoed from her abdomen where Sophitia's sword penetrated her to drive out the demon – the rest of her injuries seemed numb compared to it.

After pushing her tangled hair out of her face, the ninja sat motionless (still wrapped in her cloak) for several minutes while her senses came back to her and she thought upon the events of the last few weeks while under the influence of demonic possession. "Mental note: Thank . . ." and the Greek girl's name escaped her for only a moment. What was her name? So much had happened—so much on her mind—"Sophitia." That was it. "Thank Sophitia."

But where was she? Taki glanced around the abandoned barn, and located her in the loft asleep against the barn wall. 'I'll let her sleep.' The ninja stood up, keeping the cloak wrapped around her like a blanket, and stepped over her twin swords laid out neatly on the ground without realizing they were even there. Crossing the barn, she found a note nailed to the large doors reading "Careful, friend. Soldiers came looking for you while you rested. If they come back and you need to hide, there's a basement in the barn (don't ask) which is where I hid you." Taki smiled warmly, opened the doors peered out, then emerged from the dim barn into the bright sunlight.

It felt good. Very good. While possessed, her soul was forever in darkness. Now the sun could reach through her body, and touch her spirit. Taki let out a sigh of relief, breathed in the soothing morning air, and then opened her eyes to the reality again. The ashen remains of several bonfires were scattered around the outskirts of the village. From the lack of bodies and graves, Taki wagered that Sophitia had cremated the dead.

Taki wandered the village for an hour, walking aimlessly while her thoughts drifted to seemingly random subjects. How pleasant the green fields look in this early afternoon light, and how the breeze caressed her skin in a soothing, refreshing manner. The signs of life, of being alive. What manner of creatures would prefer the misery of darkness and death over this? Why would such beasts fight to bring this destruction to others? Was the nature of evil to find comfort in the darkness just as creatures of the light find peace in this beautiful landscape with the sun overhead?

And "Why do I have to fight demons?" the stray thoughts attacked Taki's mind. Is there any deep metaphorical meaning behind the endless battle between good and evil, or is it just an eternal cycle that cannot be escaped – does this cycle exist solely to give the beings of this world something to dedicate themselves to while they live? "Does anything really hang in the balance of me fighting?" Or are both sides cursed to never gain on the other regardless of the participants?

Taki shook the thoughts away and pulled her cloak tighter around her body. She felt that at one point she could have answered all of the above readily, but now it eluded her. "Damn you, Tenebraraum." But she continued to wander both in body and in mind. Ultimately, she had a destination and an agenda but she hadn't the faintest idea of how to get there. And after awhile, she glanced a the sky and judged that two hours had passed based on the sun's new position. The ninja found a quiet spot in the nearby field and carefully seated herself. Then she meditated until Sophitia woke up.

Taki was totally oblivious to the hostile eyes watching her.

"Don't stop on account of me," Sophitia said, wearily wiping the sleep from her eyes. She too had left her weapons in the barn, but unlike Taki, Sophitia realized it.

Taki, now standing, dusted the grass and dirt from her cloak, and then shrugged. Her attempts to get back what the demon stole yielded nothing but frustration, a frustration that defeated the purpose of meditation. And Taki was thankful to find Sophitia awake, giving her something to take her mind off from things. "I wanted to thank you for what you did."

"I've been meaning to thank you for seven years." She smiled a warm smile that hid a burning question and confrontation in the back of her mind. Not now, though, it could wait till later. "The Gods finally gave me a chance."

The ninja nodded, and left it at that. She could go on both thanking her, and apologizing for what the demon did through her but it would never be enough. Instead she'd be content to _do_ something about it should the opportunity arise – there would be no hesitation. And as their eyes met, it became apparent that both understood this.

"You're looking better," Sophitia offered, as she stretched her arms until feeling the satisfying pop in her shoulder. "How's that wound feeling?"

"A lot better than it should," Taki said. Granted, it still hurt like hell, and she would not be able to fight for a few days . . . but it was healing faster than she could have expected. Apparently Hephaestus deemed the blow would hurt the demon far worse than it would hurt Taki.

And then it came – that uncomfortable pause in the conversation. As if neither woman knew what to say. The demon had been vanquished and banished back to hell for the time being, the task had been performed, the deed is done, now to move on – for Taki to locate her master and exorcise Oni, and for Sophitia to find her sister . . . but the task wasn't done. Taki hadn't fully healed, not physically . . . and she was still bleeding on another level.

The smile faded from Sophitia's face, as she turned over some unpleasant ideas in her mind.

"So," Taki began, and the direction of this next statement proved that she had no idea what to do next. "A basement in a barn?"

Amused, the smile returned to Sophitia's face as she laughed and nodded, "There's a small horde of treasure down there."

"Ah," Taki understood. Treasure in a basement in a barn? It appears the farmer would moonlight as a thief – perhaps even had his own thieves' guild – and stole from someone with power.

"Hephaestus lead me there." Sophitia elaborated, brushing her blond bangs out of her face, "I accidentally spilled water, and heard it dripping. Not even an hour later the soldier's appeared on the horizon looking for you."

Exactly what the demon wanted – for Taki to be the one hunted, on the run, and in danger of being recognized as the killer within the fog – effectively minimizing the threat she posed now that Italy was against her. "From what they said, do you know how big a region they're searching? Or how many are searching for me?"

Sophitia shook her head. She honestly had no idea, "They said a major city had been evacuated and several villages. But I sensed a bit of sensationalism in their voices. I think they were trying to scare me since I'm a woman."

Taki nodded, understandingly. And it came again – that uncomfortable pause, and along with it the realization of the true reason. Taki knew she, herself, was clueless of where to go and what to say, but Sophitia's smile again faded and she looked away from her. The Greek had something on her mind – something she held back. "Hey," Taki said to get the other woman's attention, and when their eyes met she asked, "What is it?"

Cornered, Sophitia obliged. She didn't want to open up their seven year reunion with, "You put the evil into your sword. Why?"

Mekki-maru and Rekki-marue! "Where are they?" Taki could not believe all this time had transpired without her knowing where her weapons were. The demon truly did cripple her.

Sophitia cocked her head curiously, "I left them by you in the barn. Didn't you see them?"

Gone was her refined battle instinct, gone too was the intimate knowledge of the supernatural world, and now her heightened senses. 'A common mugger could probably sneak up and kill me at this point.'

Taki started towards the barn, but Sophitia grabbed her by the arm and spun Taki around. Sophitia had wanted to avoid this confrontation, but the ninja asked for it. And she'd get it. "Why did you put the fragment into the blade?"

Biting her lip with frustration – not directed at Sophitia, but aimed squarely at herself. Without breaking eye contact, Taki admitted, "It was a mistake." Plain and simple confession. She screwed up. "Mekki-maru channeled positive energy. I thought I could utilize Soul Edge's power to magnify Mekki-maru's potency and maintain the positive aura." But she didn't realize that even a fragment of Soul Edge would overwhelm her sword's aura with evil. "My possession was a direct result of that mistake."

Sophitia's eyes dropped, and she shook her head, "Soul Edge was forged of pure evil. You saw its power first hand. You should have known." Then Sophitia tightened her grip on Taki's arm, "I want to say that 'because your intentions were pure, I can't fault you for it' . . . but I can't. You of all people should have known better."

Taki's eyes dropped to the Greek's hold on her arm, then back up to meet Sophitia's gaze. "What do you want me to do? Have I paid for my sins, or have I not suffered enough?"

"What do you plan to do with the sword?"

"I don't know."

"Destroy it."

"Sophi—"

"Destroy it."

Narrowing her eyes, Taki challenged, "And if I don't?"

"Don't make enemies of us Taki." Sophitia answered, releasing her friend. "I won't let you make the same mistake twice."

She was afraid of that. But it wasn't that Taki disagreed, it's just that she woke up a few hours ago to the full reality of what happened to her. "Give me time, Sophitia," Taki answered in a pleading tone. "I've just become myself again, and I have too much to think about."

"I'll destroy it, myself, if you wish."

"Give me time," Taki repeated, more forcefully than she intended. "If it'll make you feel better, lock it in that basement – I don't intend to use it anyway. Just let me think about it. I don't want to rush into the wrong decision."

"Keeping it is the wrong decision—"

"Let me get there on my own," Taki growled.

"I'm sorry." Sophitia backed away from the topic, "This is why I didn't want to have this conversation." Once she started, she had a nasty habit of not shutting up.

"It's not you," Taki turned to look across the lush green fields to the clear blue skies, "I'm more frustrated with myself than anything. Just let me think, okay?"

"I was going to head to the next town for supplies. It'll give you some time alone."

Taki nodded. "God speed."

She waited until the Greek servant of Hephaestus had disappeared into the horizon before returning to the barn to find the swords she'd missed. Indeed, Sophitia hadn't lied. Both Rekki-maru and Mekki-maru lay by her makeshift bed – Taki had literally stepped over them. "Damn you, Tenebraraum."

She seated herself upon the bail of hay, still wrapped in her cloak, and delicately picked up first Rekki-maru and drew the blade from its casing. The steel blade caught a strand of sunlight that seeped through the cracks in the old barn, and the light reflected back into Taki's face. She ran her thumb across the blade, testing its sharpness – feeling the edge scrape against the grooves that made up her fingerprint. And her eyes studied the blade, inch by inch, while her mind studied their history together. Many battles fought, many demons banished, and many times this sword had saved her life.

Is it any wonder that a warrior gains an intimate knowledge of her weapon? It's weight, it's reach, and how well it glides through the air and cuts through its prey. Is it any wonder that the weapon becomes an extension of her arm, of her soul, that she's become attached to this sword?

Laying the unsheathed Rekki-maru in her lap, Taki picked up the sword's twin: Mekki-maru. True these weapons, these two swords were merely tools with a deadly purpose. Her knowledge of the art of combat didn't limit her to just these two swords, or swords like them. But these were _her_ swords. Mekki-maru belonged to her, as she belonged to it. Mekki-maru came free of its scabbard, and like with its twin, Taki studied the blade like she'd done so many times before when contemplating the world around her.

_The darkness within tugged at her soul – at the edge of her consciousness, it whispered its temptations to her._

Rekki-maru and Mekki-maru were dear to her. They were a part of her. If she had to severe her own hand to prevent gangrene she would, if the lives of many innocent people rested with her killing a friend she would . . . but only if she knew beyond all doubts that such extremes were the only way. If she had to, she'd shatter her beloved Mekki-maru forever . . . but only if she had to.

Holding out Mekki-maru in her left hand, Taki picked up Rekki-maru in her right hand to deliver the fatal blow to the sword. Anxiety flooded through her veins, and she found herself holding her breath as one question plagued her thoughts, haunted her: Did the demon take away the strength to do what was necessary?

"It'll weaken you again," Taki told herself, squeezing both swords until her knuckles turned white, "It gave the demon the opportunity and the power to possess you. It revealed your weaknesses to your enemies. It betrayed you, and it'll betray you again." Sophitia was right. The only thing to do was destroy the sword, and the fragment of Soul Edge within it. The truth stared her in the face – everything she needed to convince herself that Mekk-maru was a threat to her survival . . . and yet . . . and yet . . .

_She felt something tremble within the sword – something on another plane of existence. That intelligent essence of Soul Edge within trembled at the thought of its own destruction. It feared her . . ._

"I can't." Lowering both swords, Taki cursed herself. She couldn't bring herself to shatter Mekki-maru. There had to be another way. Mekki-maru meant too much to her, and besides Soul Edge had brought her close to its heart during the possession – she knew more about it. Now she could master it. That's why it really feared her. She could master it now . . . .

Or was Soul Edge just manipulating the weakened ninja so it could survive? Flattering her so it could finish her?

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Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. Thanks for your patience.


	18. A Harsh Lesson

**Tainted Souls, Tainted Swords**

Chapter Eighteen: A Harsh Lesson

Tira sat with the inner part of the Ring Blade resting on her shoulder (the inner portion of the ring, obviously, was not a blade), watching as the Greek mother rode and the woman in the blanket moved back into the barn. She bitterly watched Sophitia, unconsciously scratching the scar the Greek had left her with. Then she disappointedly turned her attention to the ninja, "the demon in the fog . . . I get my hopes up and travel all this way and for what? Nothing."

Springing up, she snatched the ring blade over her head and brought it down harshly upon a poor unsuspecting rodent. She held up her weapon, running her fingertips along the blade where the blood had stained it. "So disappointing." Tira had not come for the Greek mother – sheer coincidence had brought them back together – instead she searched after the monstrosity in the fog. A monstrosity that had been cured before she arrived. Someone with the same blood lust as her. But not here. Not anymore. The Greek had cured it, and all that remained was a harmless woman with dark hair.

Plunging the ring blade into the animal carcass, Tira slowly rotated the weapon so blood would streak across the entire circumference. "I bet that evil seed knight is just as pathetic as you. He probably walks in circles too for no reason. I could probably sneak up and kill him like I could you. Pitiful. Not worth my time." She was talking to herself again, but who cared? Who would know? Not that worthless lady in the village. Not anybody. "I'm wasting my time searching."

Nevertheless, the possibility of meeting another with the same mindset as her intrigued her. She held up her bloodied weapon, studying the random pattern of crimson upon it. Life was depressingly lonely and empty. Even the severely demented appreciated like-minded company, even if conversation never resulted. Just to have one person who didn't gasp in horror at her whimsical desire to murder. One person who simply nodded respectfully if she showed up with blood stains on her skin.

Tira rested her weapon upon her shoulder so that it crossed her body diagonally down (and she'd have to pull it over her head to fight), as she always did to carry it and started walking in the direction Sophitia went. Not necessarily to start another fight. She wanted to slash that Greek bitch to ribbons, but wouldn't bother trying until she had a way to get rid of the shield. In town there were people, and where there were people there might be leads to the knight with the oversized sword. The one holding Soul Edge. The one like her.

---

And as one threat left, another threat arrived – one that would not let the weakened ninja be.

Just as Taki had hidden Mekk-maru and closed the trap door to the secret compartment containing contraband the main doors to the barn opened dramatically. Standing in Silhouette stood a tall figure cloaked in white and black robes. In one hand he held a large scythe that reflected sunlight from its blade in the ninja's eyes.

Taki instinctively whipped the cloak off and, still clad in her slashed red outfit, she drew Rekki-maru. "Who are you?"

"I've come for the shard within the sword," he said, ever so slightly adjusting his scythe to keep ninja blinded by the light, "surrender it, and you shall not be harmed."

With her free hand Taki shielded her eyes from the blinding light. "I surrender nothing."

A smile of faint amusement crossed the colored man's face – though Taki couldn't see it – as he continued, "Your dedication to this cause is admirable, even noble; however, the shard is too much for such a weak woman. I shall bear the burden for you."

"I'm strong enough to do what must be done," Taki answered out of defiance, despite the whole afternoon she spent pondering whether she truly could. Rekki-maru detected a dark aura – not demonic in nature – but still dark, none-the-less, in this man. An aura she'd not seen before. Sophitia she could trust with Mekki-maru. Her aura was pure. But this man, she knew not what his intentions were. "You don't know what you're dealing with. Leave or die. That is my final warning."

Zasalamel, shook his head at the irony of the situation – for it was she who knew not of the powers she messed with. Zasalamel knew all too well. But he did not answer with words. He stepped just inside the barn where he could no longer blind Taki with the dying daylight.

"I warned you," Taki said under her breath, and hopped onto a bail of hay then leapt into action. In midair she flipped, only to descend with a summersault kick a fatal swipe from Rekki-maru. She'd bring a swift end to this fight, but the Egyptian sidestepped much faster than Taki had anticipated. Her attacks struck abandoned air.

"Fool." Zasalamel commented. Before the ninja could recover from her acrobatic moves, the staff portion of his scythe struck the back of Taki's legs with tremendous force bringing Taki down to her knees. In the same instant he grabbed a handful of her raven hair and said, "You're no match for me in your current condition." Then to drive home his point, he used his scythe to hook the barn door. Taki's eyes widened, but it was too late. With a swift tug, Zasalamel slammed the barn door into the ninja's face. Then he threw the stunned woman to the ground. "The sword burdens and haunts you. You're weakened, warrior from the far East. You might have been a challenge before, but now you're crippled."

Sensing that Zasalamel would allow her to rise, Taki answered, "Soul Edge has weakened me, but it has not crippled me," and she pushed herself to her feet, where she took an en guard stance and faced the dark-skinned man, "I won't let you have Mekki-maru."

Zas stood casually, not in any type of en guard. Matter of factly he informed the ninja, "this is a fight you can't win."

"You're wrong," the ninja answered, talking solely to buy her time to analyze his weapon more closely – figure out its range, attack possibilities, and if he ever went back into a stance she'd study that too. Then formulate a winning strategy, "I'm still strong enough to hold my own. I'm strong enough to defeat you."

Almost sadly, the Egyptian shook his head. "A true warrior chooses his fights carefully," and finally he gripped his weapon for the coming battle, "you force me to teach you a harsh lesson today. You will pay dearly for your ignorance."

"We'll see," and both waited for the other to make a move, circling each other in the spacious barn that now seemed claustrophobic with weapons drawn. And then almost casually, Zasalamel advanced before making two vertical swipes at Taki. The ninja eased back, staying out of range, and bided her time. Zasalamel continued the advance with a low sweep that would have tripped Taki up had she tried to advance.

Her back touched the barn wall, and the ninja dove to the side, popped up, and circled again to keep herself from being cornered. "Take your time Taki." She told herself, knowing she couldn't rely on her honed battle instinct – she'd have to find the opening the hard way.

And the cycle semi-repeated – Zas performed two vertical swipes followed by another low sweep – this time a two sweep combo.

"Sweep to catch me in case I sidestep the vertical slashes," she said to herself, and now armed with that knowledge she awaited the next attack string. Wait, counter, kill. Easy enough.

For the third time, the Egyptian lead off with a pair of vertical strikes, and Taki guard impacted the low sweep that never came. He'd tricked her into leaving herself vulnerable. "Oldest trick in the book," Zas fiercely thrust the blunt portion of the heavy scythe blade into Taki's wounded midsection – the tender spot where Sophitia had run her through when she was possessed – and the ninja doubled over. "I would know," Zas stated as he twirled his weapon, and fluidly uppercut Taki before she could defend herself.

On her back, seeing stars, Taki rolled over and weakly attempted to rise to her feet out of instinct – but Zasalamel had extended all the generosity he intended to give her. He bludgeoned her with his scythe, and flattened Taki against the floor of the barn. She would have to scramble and struggle just to stand. Rolling to avoid another vicious bashing, Taki sprung to her feet but Zasalamel was upon her. His scythe forever in motion, striking at her with the speed and precision of a viper. Not to kill, but to bludgeon her into submission. To teach this foolish girl a lesson.

Taki had no room to breath, Rekki-maru never had time to go on the offensive. Zasalamel expertly attacked to draw her sole sword into blocking position so the other end of his scythe could smash her ribs. Taki stumbled back surprised to find the wall right there – as her mind took a second to register her predicament she suffered another bludgeoning blow to the midsection, sandwiched between the scythe and the wall. Her left arm wrapped around her wounded abdomen, and it took all her concentration from doubling over again. Zas brushed her sword out of the way, and flattened the battered Taki against the wall with another powerful blow. Her legs buckled, and Taki could barely bring Rekki-maru up to defend herself.

Zasalamel feinted, and lured Taki's sword to precisely the place he wanted – then he maneuvered the blade of his weapon around hers and ripped it from her hands. Then he buried the blunt end of the scythe into her midsection again – this time with all the strength he could muster, hammering the air from her lungs. Se doubled over virtually paralyzed from the force of that blow. She saw Rekki-maru come to a rest near the trap door to the hidden compartment, far from any hope of reaching.

Once again she'd lost miserably because of Mekki-maru – because of Soul Edge and the demon. Her refined instincts were not where she needed them. And now she was at the mercy of this colored man. Still bent in half, both arms around her sore midsection, she continued to fight to get her wind back. What hope did she have of winning now?

"Lesson's over, ninja." He stated, gripping her by the hair, and straightening Taki out against the barn wall. She made a vain attempt at an offensive, but Zas blocked with the scythe and she wound up punching the staff portion of it. Doing more harm to her hand. To her surprise, Zasalamel did not finish her with the blade. No, he used his weapon like a quarterstaff and pummeled the living daylights out of her. One end struck her left arm her, the other popped her right knee. The first end of the staff smashed her ribs, making her double over again and Zasalamel straightened her out and flattened her against the wall with an uppercut.

Zasalamel kept her pinned against the wall, and continued the vicious combo until the muscles in her legs finally gave, and she slid down to the ground still in a seated position. Out cold.

"Fortunately for you, I'm concerned only with my own death." And he left the unconscious ninja where she lie in pursuit of what he came here for. Zasalemel immediately went to the trap door and opened it up. The secret compartment, the 'basement', opened up to him. Glowing with the golden aura of all its contraband and hidden treasures, but he never regarded them as anything more than a hiding place for the sword. Where did she hide Mekki-maru? Indeed, she had found an excellent hiding place. A quick glance did not reveal its location, nor did a thorough search.

But that wouldn't stop Zasalamel. He'd discovered and unlocked the secretive arts of reincarnation, his memories extend through the millennia, a mortal could not hide a fragment of Soul Edge from him for very long. From within his cloak, he produced a pouch with ingredients for his spell. He spoke the forbidden words, and his hands shaped the magic that would reveal Mekki-maru's location. Within minutes, his form glow blue with the magical energy and no more than half an hour had passed and Mekki-maru was in his hands at last.

Magic he could not call upon for a fight, but he never needed to rely on such sorcery for battle.

Emerging from the hidden room, he found the battered ninja dragging herself to Rekki-maru. Her hand was only inches away when he scooped her weapon up, and tucked it into his belt next to Mekki-maru. Taki bit her lip, and balled up her outstretched hand into a tight fist. Then weakly, she looked up at Zasalamel who shook his head, "Apparently you haven't learned your lesson . . ."

Taki bowed her head and gulped.

---

The most unnerving moments involve drawn weapons, but no actual combat. Sophitia saw her from a distance – the assassin she had encountered previously – and without thinking she instinctively drew her sword. Shield gripped tightly, and her horse quickened its pace.

The assassin walked at a relaxed but steady pace, the weapon slung over her shoulder. The green clad youth kept her head down, seemingly not paying attention to the world around her. Needless to say, this triggered Sophitia's suspicions and she slowed her horse to proceed with extreme caution. When Tira was roughly fifty feet away, the Greek called out calmly but firmly, "Halt you!" Her emotions had calmed since the previous encounter, and she quietly vowed not to let this assassin manipulate her into another rage. No matter what she said – no matter she threatened – Sophitia would act dutifully in the name of Hephaestus.

But Tira didn't acknowledge at all. She continued walking, her gaze stayed glued to the path in front of her. There was no doubt in Sophitia's mind that Tira was keenly aware, though.

"I said stop!" No response. "I'm warning you!" But it was useless, leaving Sophitia at a loss for what to do. She didn't want to outright attack this clearly disturbed girl unprovoked, but at the same time Sophitia knew plain as day the threat Tira posed. This girl, this assassin, had something in mind. Some sort of trap set. That's why she's not acknowledging!

The Greek scanned the area nearby – no tree line nearby, no hiding places. Just open fields for at least fifty or so yards. Despite the deceptive surroundings, danger lurked . . . right? 'It's a lure to get me close.' That had to be it. If she gets close enough, she'll spring her attack. Sophitia called out, "If you come any closer, I will strike you down!"

That made Tira stop and look up at her as though Sophitia were some psychopath suffering from severe hallucinations. Matter of factly, the assassin shrugged, "Whatever." And changed directions – moving from the roads to the open fields to circle around Sophitia.

What the . . . ? "What's your game?" Sophitia called out, standing her ground. For the life of her she could not make sense of this weird blue-green haired girl. One night she attacks for no reason while making small talk, and now she's acting like they'd never met. Something was seriously wrong with her. "Answer me!"

"Leave me alone."

"Answer me first!" Sophitia could go without a fight, but she deserved an explanation for the attack on the mountain top and the threat against her children. "What are you doing?"

Tira walked a few paces, apparently warring with herself over what to do – she did have something in mind! A decision came with a heavy sigh. The glare she gave was hateful, and the tone in her voice filled with venomous mockery, "But I don't wanna fight mommy!"

Even though she had mentally prepared herself for the verbal provocation, Sophitia's jaw dropped. She remembered her vow on the mountain that one of them would not survive their next encounter, and adjusted her sword and shield. The Greek wouldn't attack just yet. But if this kept up, blood would spill—

"I'd be more worried about your raven-haired friend." The Assassin bluffed, having no knowledge of the Egyptian Zasalamel's visit with Taki. Tira never slowed her pace as she looked on to the town down the road, "Should have left your shield with her. But don't worry. I didn't kill her. I stopped when she passed out from blood loss. Maybe if you hurry she won't bleed to death."

"You're lying!" Sophitia snapped defiantly, but she looked down the road and her heart went out to Taki. The ninja could take care of herself . . . uninjured.

And Tira held up her ring blade, showing off the drying blood.

No! Not Taki! Sophitia didn't save her just to let her die. Her tone of voice changed to one alien to her personality. Her words had nothing to do with justice, valor, or duty to the Gods. No, this was personal. "Mark my words, I'll get even with you."

And as the Greek rode away, Tira commented, "Idiot."

---


	19. Finished

**Tainted Souls, Tainted Swords**

Chapter Nineteen: Finished

Taki closed her eyes, mentally preparing herself for the abuse coming her way, knowing she would barely be able to fend for herself _if_ she could stand up. Maybe if she had secretly gotten hold of Rekki-maru, she could have sliced his throat as he came up from the secret chamber. But now? Now he held both her swords – she couldn't flee without at least one of her weapons. Zasalamel had her in the palm of his hand. Now she was doomed.

However, she did not feel his wrath. In fact she heard receding footsteps as the Egyptian spoke, "I doubt you'll believe me, but I'm not an evil man."

Taki opened her eyes, and looked across the barn to find her enemy with his back to her approaching the barn wall. The shinobi tried to get up, tried to push through the pain in her aching body to stand on her two feet, but midway up she collapsed face first in the dirt. Sending up dust in her face to agitate her senses. In her mind, she cursed but did not verbalize it; however, her curses manifested clearly in those reddening eyes that watched Zasalamel with bitter resentment. What was he doing?

"In taking this demon sword, I did you a favor," Zasalamel continued, his back still turned to her as he unsheathed Mekki-maru and studied it a moment. God how that bothered her than anything – even Fu Ma ninjas and Master Toki himself knew better than to turn their backs to her. But here lie Taki, unable to creep up, unable to get the killing blow, unable to even stand up. She felt pathetic, she felt as though all her training had been for nothing, and she hated herself for how far she'd fallen.

The Egyptian dropped the scabbard uncaringly upon the ground, and he plunged the blade into the barn's wall so it stuck out at a perfect perpendicular angle, "But do you recognize that favor? The burden I'm trying to lift from you? Do you try to understand?

"You assume anyone wanting Soul Edge is vile and evil," and the Egyptian turned his attention to Rekki-maru, removing it from its case and stabbing the sword into the wall just below Mekki-maru. Still ignoring Taki like she was some sort of insect. The shinobi couldn't take it anymore. Biting her lip, Taki tried again to push herself up off the floor and made it to her hands and knees before feeling a sudden spell of weakness and dizziness. She paused, momentarily hoping to gather the strength to stand.

Zasalamel lectured on, looking over the arrangement of swords stabbed securely into the barn wall, "You assume I seek power, seek the lies that surround the sword. You foolishly assume I know not of the powers that forged that sword. You assume I'm a man with intentions of destroying you and everything you hold dear. You've assumed to much, and you're dead wrong on all accounts."

As the dizziness faded, Taki answered, "Mekki-maru is _my_ sword."

Leaning his scythe against the wall, the Egyptian approached the downed and harmless ninja with his arms crossed, "Look at you, woman. You're on all fours like a dog, too weak to stand up, and you're only alive because I willed it. You're not strong enough to wield Mekki-maru. You're not wise enough to recognize your weakness." Then as he came to a stop in front of the pathetic shell of a shinobi, he made a statement that pierced her heart and set her mind in a rage, "You don't _deserve_ to wield Mekki-maru."

The glare she cast reflected her boiling hatred. Mekki-maru was her's. Who the hell was he to say she doesn't deserve the sword? Who was he to take Mekki-maru from her? What right did he have? But what could she say from this position? On her hands and knees, too weak to stand up – afraid to try and stand up in fear of falling on her face again. Who was she to challenge what Zasalamel has proven. Her heart sank. She was unworthy . . .

Shaking away those thoughts, Taki quietly bit her lip while searching for something to say. Something that wouldn't be just the lashing out of a wounded ego. Something that would prove her nobility, her wisdom, her inner strength . . . but she couldn't. The answer lie somewhere in her training – that secret Tenebraurum locked up and set her in motion for depressing failure after depressing failure. Zasalamel's words came back in her mind with a vengeance, and this time she couldn't dismiss them so easily. She was unworthy . . . she was worthless without the knowledge of her training. She was worthless . . .

The ninja bowed her head, overwhelmed with despair. She felt her strength giving, the dizziness returning, the weakness of a worthless woman consuming her. She felt the talons of defeat sink deeply in her flesh, holding on with a deathgrip. Giving up and trying to stand, she seated herself and leaned heavily on her hands.

Reaching out, Zasalamel touched her chin gently but Taki wouldn't accept his touch. The Egyptian sighed, "I gave you an opportunity to surrender the sword peacefully, and had you complied no harm would have come to you. You are strong, ninja, don't misunderstand that. Simple peasants or town guards would have been no match for you even when you are weakened; however, I am no peasant or lowly town guard nor is the current holder of Soul Edge. He would have crushed you just as I have, only he would have finished you." At this point Zasalamel's hand snapped forward, grabbing Taki and forcing the woman to meet his gaze, "Do you understand?"

Taki's fury was boiling, but at the same time her heart was drowning. He had a point to prove, granted, she couldn't stand up to Nightmare in her current condition. But did he have to kick her while she was down, and beat the tar out of her to prove it? Was she really that stubborn—

'Damnit, Taki, stop thinking that way!' She quietly commanded herself. So many emotions, her soul torn in so many directions at once. 'Enough self-pity. I'm a woman of action. I'm not this pathetic.'

"Do you understand?" Zasalamel repeated, losing patience.

"Mekki-maru is my burden," she said, carefully controlling her tone, "and I will bear it. I will keep standing until I'm strong enough to finish this." After a long pause, she narrowed her eyes and growled a challenge, "And I will surrender Mekki-maru to no one."

"Stupid wench," Zasalamel release Taki and stood up. He turned, and returned to the swords still sticking out of the barn wall, "Did I not tell you that I am not evil! You're not suffering to satisfy some sick twisted sense of pleasure – you're suffering because of your own ignorance! Because you chose this path for yourself!"

"I will suffer whatever I have to to end Soul Edge's curse. It's not an easy road, and I never deluded myself into thinking it was. It'll probably cost me my life, but I'm willing to—"

"It will cost you your life!" Zasalamel snapped, snatching up his scythe and gesturing towards the ninja with it, "Your heart is in the right place, your dedication is admirable – why do you think I've spared your life? You don't deserve to die for your actions!" A moment passed while both stared at each other, wordlessly. Zasalamel gripped his scythe until his knuckles turned white, "I've hurt you very badly, and you may force me to inflict even more pain upon your fragile body. But consider this: after your enemies have crushed you as I have, what will they do with the broken woman sitting there now? And would you rather discover your weaknesses through me, or through them?"

Zasalamel hovered his scythe of Mekki-maru, then raised it up and Taki realized his intentions. "Don't you dare!"

The Egyptian paused and without taking his eyes off his target, Mekki-maru, he intoned, "Breaking your body has failed to teach you, shinobi. You've brought this fate upon yourself, and your swords—"

"NO!" Taki's faced turned bright red as she yelled with every last breath of air in her lungs. Instinctively she thrust herself forward—after Zasalamel—the beating she had taken before had taken its toll on her balance, reflexes, and instincts but she miraculously stayed on her feet. Lacking her ninja grace, but making up for it with her determination she charged across the barn seconds too late.

Zasalamel's scythe came down, striking Mekki-Maru at the proper angle, and the blade shattered into half a dozen pieces. Pieces that had yet to touch the ground when Taki arrived in full charge, and her moment of heroics efforts came to an abrupt end as Zasalamel countered by thrusting the blunt end of the scythe into her midsection. The force of Zasalamel's thrust combined with Taki's charge knocked the wind from the woman, and she collapsed to her knees with her arms wrapped around her tender stomach.

She tasted blood in her mouth, and could not get air into her lungs. Add in the devastation of seeing Mekki-maru in pieces beneath her – a revelation that pulverized her already shaken spirit and self confidence. "It's time for you to sleep," Zasalamel said as he grabbed her by the hair, forced the girl up, and threw her against the wall headfirst. "And whether you choose to believe it or not, I'm saving you from yourself."

Taki caught herself before she crumbled into a heap on the floor again. She looked up and there was her last hope! Rekki-maru so close! So nearly within reach! Until the scythe bludgeoned her lower back, and she found herself stunned. Using the blade, he turned Taki around so her back was against the wall, and then Taki saw how Zasalamel was holding his scythe. She knew her fate. She knew history would repeat itself. "Please no—"

Once again the two ends of the staff cracked against her ribs, smashed her abdomen, uppercutted her against the wall. Once again, Zasalamel beat the living hell out of Taki in a devastating wall combo from which she couldn't recover, she couldn't defend herself, and she suffered the full brunt of every blow until her legs gave out. Once again she slid down into a seated position, slumped against the wall. And before she was out cold, she witnessed the scythe come down upon Rekki-maru. The guillotine blade came down upon the last of Taki's self-confidence, the last of her hope, and it drove the nail in the coffin for the Shinobi. She whimpered a pitiful, "no" before the strength left her body entirely. Her eyes closed. And she moved only to breath.

Zasalamel surveyed his work, then declared, "You're finished."

With the woman unconscious, Zasalamel returned to the treasure he came here for: the essence of Soul Edge within Mekki-maru using an elaborate and somewhat time consuming form of sorcery, which required evil symbols drawn in the dirt, incense, and a vile of a mysterious red liquid (some sort of mystic concoction.) When he had finished, like Mercury the essence of Soul Edge separated from the broken Mekki-maru and formed into one shard – that same shard Taki had pulled from Sophitia all those years ago.

After collecting the shard, Zasalamel returned to the unconscious ninja who moved only to breath. Taking her by the one foot, he dragged the unconscious woman near the trap door and began another ritualistic casting. He suspected the shinobi had finally learned her lesson, learned her place in the world, and would trouble him no more. However, he would not take a chance. From his belt he removed a vial of a red liquid, and poured its contents upon the sleeping ninja. From another pouch on his belt there were grains of a strange sand that too fell upon the unconscious ninja. With one hand, he gestured and his hand glowed violet while he recited an ancient Egyptian incantation.

A curse he could not set up in an active battle; however, it was a curse he could call upon spontaneously once he had established it. Should Taki ever stand against Zasalamel again, he can defeat her with a quick incantation – all the strength will leave her, and she will crumble. She wouldn't stand against him . . . she could not stand against him now.

He glanced around the barn, surveyed the damage, and gripped the fragment of Soul Edge in his fist. He could feel its enthusiasm for the crushing defeat in this girl, but the power within the fragment did not move him nor tempt him. His desire for eternal peace, that millenia long desire, outweighed the promises the sword had. Satisfied that his work was finished, Zasalamel used his scythe to hook the trap door and open it.

"Farewell Shinobi," Zasalamel whispered, and holding the trap door open with the scythe, he used his foot to roll Taki's lifeless body into the dark pit like death uncaringly pushing a soul into the dark abyss of eternity. The sexy ninja, or what was left of her, collided with a whole shelf of contraband – coins, jewelry, wine bottles – and their contents went crashing to the floor along with her. A loud crash and a small dust cloud answered her fall, but it didn't wake her. She lay motionless half buried in the debris. A slight whimper escaped her lungs as she breathed.

"Rest in peace Taki of the Fu Ma." And Zasalamel let go of the trap door and it slammed shut from its own weight, sealing the beaten, crushed, and humiliated remains of a woman in complete and total darkness.

Taki … was finished.


End file.
